Dr.  Philip  Oraif 


C — ^^-e>t/  *t^y^  <?<-~  cL^Xe-'X*  6i^£( 


OFF-HAID    TAKINGS; 


OR, 


CRAYON    SKETCHES 


OF  THE 


NOTICEABLE  MEN  OF  OUR  AGE. 


BT 


GEORGE   W.   BUNGAY. 

\\ 


fottfe   Qffotnta   portraits   on   Stttl, 


THIRD       EDITION". 


NEW    YORK: 
ROBT.    M.    DE   WITT,    PUBLISHER, 

160  &   162   NASSAU  STREET. 


E 


T 

VT^'W     or«MV. 


ESTEHBD  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  by 

DE   WITT    A    DAVENPORT, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Counter  the  Southern  District  of  New  York 


W.  H.   TINSOX,  ALEXANDER  4  STORM, 

AND  STEREOTYPE*,  BOOKBISDKW ,, 

>t  Beckman  Street.  i   Spruce  Strej 


CONTENTS. 


Daniel  Webster 9 

Henry  Clay 20 

Edwin  H.  Chapin  (ivith  portrait) 28 

John  Charles  Fremont 37 

Geo.  P.  Morris  and  N.  P.  Willis 43 

William  H.  Seward  (with  portrait) 52 

Edward  Everett  (with  portrait) 59 

John  P.  Hale  (with,  portrait) 72 

Father  Taylor 79 

John  C.  Calhoun 82 

Lewis  Cass 92 

Charles  C.  Burleigh 101 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  (with  portrait) 104 

Abbott  Lawrence 116 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 119 

John  Van  Buren  (with  portrait) 127 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier 132 

Washington  Irving 141 

G.  W.  Bethune 147 

E.  P.  Whipple 156 

G.  C.  llebbe  (with  portrait) 162 

Rufus  Choate 167 

Horace  Mann 175 

Dr.  Boardman 182 

Solon  Robinson  (with portrait) 186 

John  Ross  Dix 190 

P.  T.  Barnum  (wiffi  portrait) 199 

Dr.  E.Kane 205 

Nathaniel  Hawthorne 210 

Samuel  F.  B.  Morse 214 

Geo.  W.Kendall 218 

Samuel  Houston  (with  portrait) 219 

Pierre  Soule 228 

W.  Thackeray 224 


741961 


CONTENTS.  IV 

Page 

John  Pierpont 229 

Horace  Greeley  (with  portrait) 237 

Moses  Grant 245 

George  N.  Briggs 249 

Theodore  Parker 253 

Seal  Vow  (wUhportrait) 263 

Philip  S.  White 261 

Charles  Sumner 218 

Ogden  Hoffman  (with  portrait) 2S-4 

E.  L.  Snow 286 

Thomas  Francis  Meagher 288 

Wendell  Phillips 292 

Elihu  Burritt 801 

William  Cullen  Bryant  (with  portrait) 309 

Daniel  S.  Dickinson 316 

General  Winfield  Scott 323 

William  R.  Stacy 327 

Gerrit  Smith  (with  portrait) 330 

Edward  Beecher 341 

Thos.  HartBenton  (with  portrait) 345 

William  L.  Marcy 346 

Alfred  Bunn 347 

Peter  Cartwright 351 

Anson  Burlingame 355 

George  Law  (with  portrait) 863 

Dr.  J.  W.  Francis 364 

Dr.  S.  H.  Cox 365 

Freeman  Hunt 868 

B.  P.  Shillaber 872 

Bishop  James 877 

Rev.  Mr.  Wadsworth 378 

Rev.  Dr.  Durbin : 382 

S.  A.  Douglas  (wWi  portrait) 883 

W.  Gilmore  Simms 886 

James  Gordon  Bennett 389 

Caleb  Cushing 390 

James  Watson  Webb 391 

Dr.  Duffield » 392 

J.  R.  Lowell 394 

JohuMitchel  (with  portrait) 400 


PREFACE. 


THERE  is,  at  least  so  it  seems  to  us,  very  little  need 
of  a  Preface  to  such  a  book  as  this  ;  yet,  as  the  public 
seems  to  think  that  the  old  custom  of  providing  one 
should  be  kept  up,  and  as  our  friend,  the  Author  of 
these  "  CRAYON  SKETCHES,"  has  asked  us  to  furnish 
one,  we  do  not  see  how  we  can  refuse  to  stand,  as  it 
were,  at  the  door  of  his  picture  gallery,  for  the  purpose 
of  furnishing  all  who  may  enter  with  a  synopsis  of 
what  is  to  be  seen  within.  And,  having  seen  and 
examined  the  portraits  themselves,  we  can,  in  all  sin 
cerity,  testify  to  their  faithfulness  and  artistic  merits. 

It  is  not,  by  any  means,  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world  to  sketch  portraits  in  pen-and-ink,  so  as  to  con 
vey  to  the  reader's  mind  accurate  and  life-like  impres 
sions  of  the  originals.  Different  people  observe  objects 
from  such  various  points  of  view,  that  what  to  one 
might  appear  a  satisfactory  resemblance,  would  seem 


VI  PREFACE. 

to  another  a  mere  caricature.  Now  to  meet  this  diffi 
culty  it  is  requisite  that  the  sketcher  should  possess 
such  an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  man  he  seeks  to 
portray  as  will  enable  him  to  seize  upon  those  broad 
features  of  character  which  are  observable  by  all,  and 
to  dispose  of  those  peculiarities  that  are  perceivable 
by  but  the  few.  These  qualifications  we  believe  MR» 
BUNGAY  to  possess  in  an  eminent  degree,  and  do  not 
doubt  that  the  reader  will  entertain  the  same  opinior 
when  he  shall  have  read  through  this  volume. 

All  personal  gossip  is  interesting.  Although  the 
matter  may  at  first  glance  seem  trivial,  we,  all  of  us. 
like  to  know  something  of  the  men  whom  we  hear 
talked  of  every  day,  and  whose  works  have  either  de 
lighted  or  instructed  us.  How  they  dressed,  talked, 
or  amused  themselves ;  what  they  loved  to  eat  and 
drink,  and  how  they  looked  when  their  bows  were  un 
bent.  It  is  this  sort  of  gossip  that  makes  BoswelFs 
Life  of  Johnson  one  of  the  most  delightful  works  in 
our  language ;  and  such  petty  details,  though  the 
"  high  art "  biographer  may  deem  them  of  but  little 
value,  constitute  a  charm  which  the  most  elaborate 
expositions  of  mental  characteristics  would  fail  to 
secure. 


PREFACE.  VI. 

But  let  it  not  be  thought  that  in  the  following  por 
traits  mental  traits  are  lost  sight  of.  On  the  contrary, 
our  Anther  has  a  keen  eye  for  detecting  such,  and  a 
ready  pen  to  record  them.  A  poet  himself,  and  a  true 
one,  as  the  world  will  before  long  know,  if  it  knows  it 
not  already,  he  is  well  able  to  detect  and  prize  the 
poetic  faculty  in  others  ;  and  his  general  knowledge  of 
most  subjects  enables  him  to  seize  upon  the  prominent 
features  in  the  politician,  the  philosopher,  the  orator, 
the  merchant,  or  the  journalist.  In  these  "  Takings  " 
we  think  he  has  been  singularly  successful ;  and  if  in 
some  instances  he  has  been  hurried,  by  an  enthusiastic 
temperament,  into  over-coloring,  the  fault  may  be 
easily  excused,  for  where  is  the  painter  who  does  not 
now  and  then  overstep  the  "  modesty  of  nature,"  and 
produce  effects  which,  though  they  existed  in  his 
prolific  imagination,  are  not  set  down  in  the  strict 
rules  of  art  ? 

To  American  readers  this  Gallery  of  Portraits  of 
some  of  their  most  illustrious  men  will  be  of  great  and 
abiding  interest.  Of  course  there  are  many  others 
whom  the  Author  might  have  sketched,  but  what  single 
volume  could  have  contained  all  1  Should,  however, 
this  book  be  received  with  favor  and  we  do  not  in  the 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

least  doubt  it,  a  second  and  a  third  series  may  appear 
Of  such,  however,  it  is  premature  to  speak  at  present, 
and  we  therefore  rest  content  with  introducing  this 
volume  to  the  American  reader. 

J.  R.D. 

Boston,  Mass.,  June,  1854 


.:    OFF-HAND  ,. 

OR, 

CRAYON  SKETCHES 


DANIEL   WEBSTER. 

AMERICA  is  the  greatest  continent,  and  embraces  within  its 
limits  the  grandest  mountains,  the  broadest  lakes,  the  longest 
rivers,  the  largest  prairies,  and,  with  all  these,  the  mightiest 
intellect.  Its  mountains  stand  up  like  pillars  supporting  the 
azure  arch  in  the  temple  of  nature  ; '  its  lakes  are  inland  seas  ; 
its  rivers  could  swallow  the  waters  of  Europe  without  over 
flowing  their  banks;  and  its  mind  is  correlative  with  the 
magnificence  of  its  scenery.  There  is  but  one  Niagara,  and 
that  is  in  America ;  there  is  but  one  Webster,  and  he  is  in 
America,  The  cataract  flows  now,  as  it  did  when  God  first 
smote  the  rock  in  this  Western  wilderness,  and  He  has  woven 
a  rainbow  about  its  silver  forehead,  and  crowned  it  wi-th  a 
fountain  of  diamonds.  It  shouts  the  same  song  of  liberty  it 
did  when  the  world  was  in  its  infancy.  It  is  free  and 
mighty,  and  cannot  be  hushed  into  silence,  nor  flattered  into 
subserviency.  So  with  Webster,  when  he  lifts  up  his 


10  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

for  freedom,  it  is  like  "deep  calling  unto  deep;"  and  the 
light  of  B-aaven  Illuminates  his  magnetic  eyes  and  beams  on 
his  n-iighty  -forehead.  ' 

Geologists'  have  discovered  the  colossal  bones  of  the  Mas 
todon,  and  hence  we  infer  that  there  were  larger  animals  in 
ages  gone  by,  than  we  have  living  at  present ;  so,  future  his 
torians  will  find,  in  their  mutilated  and  mouldy  libraries, 
the  remains  of  Webster's  greatness.  In  the  glory  of  his  man 
hood  he  represented  Massachusetts ;  defended  liberty  ;  sympa 
thized  with  humanity,  and  won  the  approbation  of  all  good 
men.  In  the  arena  of  debate  he  usually  came  off  more  than 
conqueror.  He  was  regarded  as  the  senator  of  the  United 
States.  When  he  rose  in  his  place,  in  the  council  chamber 
of  the  nation,  with  a  voice  of  thunder  and  eyes  on  fire,  every 
face  was  turned  towards  him,  every  tongue  was  silent,  for  he 
was  clad  to  the  teeth  in  armor,  had  a  spear  like  a  weaver's 
beam,  and  had  been  trained  to  battle.  He  has  great  self-pos 
session,  coolness,  adroitness,  and  tact ;  never  was  remarkable 
for  sunshiny  gaiety  of  imagination ;  rarely  strayed  to  select 
bright  flowers  in  the  garden  of  literature  ;  his  attempts  at  wit 
were  like  the  antics  of  the  elephant  that  tried  to  mimic  the 
lap-dog ;  but  he  was  emphatically  great.  He  was  the 
Defender  of  the  Constitution,  and  could  present  arguments  in 
its  defence  with  irresistible  force  and  eloquence.  His  words 
were  full  of  marrow,  his  logic  unctuous  with  fatness.  He 
defeated  his  opponents,  not  by  the  "  delicacy  of  his  tact,  but 
by  the  prodigious  power  of  his  reason."  There  "was  no 
honeyed  paste  of  poetic  diction  "  encrusting  his  speeches,  "  iika 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  11 

the  candied  coat  of  the  auricula,"  but  there  was  tremendoui 
weight  in  his  arguments. 

Webster,  in  earlier  days,  was  sublime  as  Chatham,  classi 
cal  as  Burke,  terse  as  Macintosh,  forcible  as  Tully.  Endowed 
by  nature,  with  a  noble  and  commanding  person,  he  never 
failed  to  attract  attention.  When  excited  in  debate,  his 
granite  face  glowed  with  intellect;  "the  terrors  of  his  beak, 
the  lightnings  of  his  eye,  were  insufferable."  He  was  the 
king  of  the  Senate,  for  nature  had  stamped  him  with  the 
unmistakable  mark  of  sovereignty,  regardless  of  the  republi 
canism  of  his  country.  There  was  grace  in  his  gesture,  dig 
nity  in  his  deportment,  and  humanity  as  well  as  patriotism  in 
his  speeches.  His  voice  was  rich,  full,  and  clear ;  now  thril 
ling  like  the  blast  of  a  trumpet,  now  intimidating  by  tho 
awful  solemnity  of  its  tone,  now  animating  by  its  soul-stirring 
notes.  Abroad,  he  was  the  lion  of  London,  his  noble  -exterior 
making  him  "a  man  of  mark."  He  has  coal-black  hair, 
(now  thickly  sprinkled  with  grey,)  a  lofty  brow,  "  the  forge  of 
thought;"  magnificent  eyes;  an  ample  chest;  a  patrician 
hand;  a  face  broad  and  dark  as  some  of  the  fugitives  he 
would  return  to  bondage.  See  him  in  the  zenith  of  his  man 
hood,  standing  on  the  battle-ground  at  Bunker  Hill,  with 
kingly  dignity,  uttering  sentiments  that  will  be  fresh  in  the 
memories  of  millions,  when  the  shaft  of  granite  now  standing 
there  shall  have  crumbled  to  dust !  Apparently  as  impregna 
ble  as  the  granite  hills  of  his  own  New  Hampshire,  who  sup 
posed  that  he,  so  great  and  gifted,  towering  above  ordinary 
men,  was  as  the  mountain  which  wraps  the  cloud-cloak  about 


12  CRAYON   SKETCHES,    AND 

its  shoulders,  while  a  vest  of  eternal  snow  keeps  the  sunshine 
for  ever  from  its  heart !  The  mountain  is  great,  sublime,  and 
lofty,  but  cold,  barren,  and  unapproachable  ;  it  points  towards 
Heaven,  but  remains  fixed  to  earth. 

Daniel  Webster  has  accomplished  noble  feats,  for  which  he 
merits  the  gratitude  of  good  men.  Since  the  days  of 
Washington,  there  has  been  no  man  so  well  qualified,  in 
many  points,  for  the  presidency,  as  he.  His  impatience  and 
irritability,  in  consequence  of  his  disappointment,  have  been 
frequently  exhibited.  As  a  last  resort,  he  tried  to  conciliate 
the  South  at  the  expense  of  the  North.  As  a  public  speaker, 
he  seldom  enlivens  his  arguments  with  the  flashes  of  wit,  but 
he  has  said  some  keen  things,  which  have  become  as  common 
as  "  household  words."  At  a  public  meeting,  a  young  aspi 
rant  for  poetical  and  political  honors  attempted  to  drink  a 
toast  to  the  honor  of  the  immortal  John  Q.  Adams,  who  was 
present.  "  Mr.  Adams,"  said  the  toaster,  "  may  he  perplex  his 

enemies  as  " here  the  speaker  hesitated,  and  Webster 

thundered  out,  "  as  he  has  his  friends."  Foote  made  a  fulsome 
speech  in  praise  of  Mr.  Webster,  at  one  time,  in  the  senate, 
but  the  " god-like "  cut  him  short  by  shouting,  "  Git  eout" 
The  yankee  twang  he  gave  the  sentence  convulsed  the  senate 
with  irrepressible  laughter. 

For  superior  specimens  of  pure  style,  lofty  reasoning,  and 
eloquent  declamation,  read  Mr.  Webster's  arguments  before 
the  Supreme  Court,  his  speeches  delivered  in  Faneuil  Hall,  his 
best  efforts  in  the  senate  chamber,  his  unstudied  responses  at 
public  dinners  and  conventions,  his  lectures  before  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  13 

lyceums,  his  remarks  on  the  great  political  and  constitutional 
questions  of  the  past  and  present  times.  Indeed,  all  are 
familiar  with  these  efforts  of  a  master  mind.  The  profes 
sional  skill  and  the  parliamentary  talent  of  Mr.  Webster  are 
appreciated  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  He  has  contended 
with  the  ablest  intellects, — stout  competitors,  keen  opponents, 
— and  always  came  off  with  flying  colors,  when  he  was  in  the 
right.  Even  his  rivals  give  him  the  credit  of  being  the  mos, 
forcible  debater  in  America. 

At  the  age  of  thirty  he  appeared  in  the  Congress  of  1812, 
and  Mr.  Lovvndes  then  said  of  him,  that  the  North  had  not 
his  equal,  nor  the  South  his  superior.  That  he  has  been  a 
sagacious  statesman,  a  skillful  diplomatist,  a  profound  investi 
gator,  and  the  greatest  thinker  in  America,  is  the  opinion  of 
millions  of  his  countrymen. 

Never  was  the  English  language  more  eloquently  employed 
than  in  Webster's  magnificent  speech,  in  reply  to  Haynes. 
Hear  him  : — 

"  And  now,  sir,  I  repeat,  how  is  it  that  a  state  legislature 
acquires  any  right  to  interfere  ?  Who,  or  what,  gives  them 
the  right  to  say  to  the  people,  '  We,  who  are  your  agents  and 
servants  for  one  purpose,  will  undertake  to  decide  that  your 
other  agents  and  servants,  appointed  by  you  for  another  pur 
pose,  have  transcended  the  authority  you  gave  them  ?'  The 
reply  would  be,  I  think,  not  impertinent,  '  Who  made  you  a 
judge  over  another's  servants  ?  To  their  own  masters  they 
stand  or  fall.' 

"  Sir,  I  deny  this  power  of  state  legislatures  altogether.     It 


14  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

cannot  stand  the  test  of  examination.  Gentlemen  may  say 
that,  in  an  extreme  case,  a  state  government  might  protect 
themselves,  without  the  aid  of  the  state  governments.  Such 
a  case  warrants  revolution.  It  must  make,  when  it  conies,  a 
law  for  itself.  A  nullifying  act  of  a  state  legislature  cannot 
alter  the  case,  nor  make  resistance  any  more  lawful.  In 
maintaining  these  sentiments,  sir,  I  am  but  asserting  the 
right  of  the  people.  I  state  what  they  have  declared,  and 
insist  on  their  right  to  declare  it.  They  have  chosen  to 
repose  this  power  in  the  General  Government,  and  I  think  it 
my  duty  to  support  it,  like  other  constitutional  powers. 

"  For  myself,  sir,  I  doubt  the  jurisdiction  of  South  Carolina, 
or  any  other  state,  to  prescribe  my  constitutional  duty,  or  to 
settle,  between  me  and  the  people,  the  validity  of  laws  of  Con 
gress  for  which  I  have  voted.  I  decline  her  umpirage.  I 
have  not  sworn  to  support  the  Constitution  according  to  her 
construction  of  its  clauses.  I  have  not  stipulated,  by  my 
oath  of  office  or  otherwise,  to  come  under  any  responsibility, 
except  to  the  people,  and  those  whom  they  have  appointed  to 
pass  upon  the  question,  whether  the  laws,  supported  by  my 
votes,  conform  to  the  Constitution  of  the  country.  And,  sir, 
if  we  look  to  the  general  nature  of  the  case,  could  anything 
have  been  more  preposterous  than  to  have  made  a  government 
for  the  whole  Union,  and  yet  left  its  powers  subject,  not  to 
one  interpretation,  but  to  thirteen  or  twenty-four  interpreta 
tions  ?  Instead  of  one  tribunal — established  by  all,  responsi 
ble  to  all,  with  power  to  decide  for  all — shall  constitutional 
questions  be  left  to  four  and  twenty  popular  bodies,  each  at 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  15 

liberty  to  decide  for  itself,  and  none  bound  to  respect  tho 
decisions  of  others ;  and  each  at  liberty,  too,  to  give  a  new 
construction,  on  every  new  election  of  its  own  members  ? 
Would  anything,  with  such  a  principle  in  it,  or  rather  with 
such  a  destitution  of  all  principle,  be  fit  to  be  called  a  govern 
ment  ?  No,  sir.  It  should  not  be  denominated  a  Constitu 
tion.  It  should  be  called,  rather,  a  collection  of  topics  for 
everlasting  controversy;  heads  of  debate  for  a  disputatious 
people.  It  would  not  be  a  government.  It  would  not  be 
adequate  to  any  practical  good,  nor  fit  for  any  country  to  live 
under.  To  avoid  all  possibility  of  being  misunderstood, 
allow  me  to  repeat  again,  in  the  fullest  manner,  that  I  claim 
no  powers  for  the  government,  by  forced  or  unfair  construc 
tion.  1  admit  that  it  is  a  government  of  strictly  limited 
powers ;  of  enumerated,  specified,  and  particularized  powers  ; 
and  that  whatsoever  is  not  granted  is  withheld.  But,  not 
withstanding  all  this,  and  however  the  grant  of  powers  may 
be  expressed,  its  limits  and  extent  may  yet,  in  some  cases, 
admit  of  doubt ;  and  the  General  Government  would  be  good 
for  nothing,  it  would  be  incapable  of  long  existence,  if  some 
mode  had  not  been  provided  in  which  those  doubts,  as  they 
should  arise,  might  be  peaceably,  but  authoritatively,  solved. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  President,  let  me  run  the  honorable  gentle 
man's  doctrine  a  little  into  its  practical  application.  Let  us 
look  at  his  probable  modus  operandi.  If  a  thing  can  be  done, 
an  ingenious  man  can  tell  how  it  is  to  be  done.  Now,  I  wish 
to  be  informed  how  this  state  interference  is  to  be  put  in  prac 
tice.  We  will  take  the  existing  case  of  the  tariff  law.  South 


16  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Carolina  is  said  to  have  made  up  her  opinion  upcn  it.  If  we 
do  not  repeal  it  (as  we  probably  shall  not),  she  will  then 
apply  to  the  case  the  remedy  of  her  doctrine.  She  will,  we 
must  suppose,  pass  a  law  of  her  legislature,  declaring  the 
several  acts  of  Congress,  usually  called  the  tariff  laws,  null 
and  void,  so  far  as  they  respect  South  Carolina,  or  the  citizens 
thereof.  So  far,  all  is  a  paper  transaction,  and  easy  enough. 
But  the  collector  at  Charleston  is  collecting  the  duties  imposed 
by  these  tariff  laws — he,  therefore,  must  be  stopped.  The 
collector  will  seize  the  goods  if  the  tariff  duties  are  not  paid. 
The  state  authorities  will  undertake  their  rescue  :  the  marshal, 
with  his  posse,  will  come  to  the  collector's  aid ;  and  here  the 
contest  begins.  The  militia  of  the  state  will  be  called  out  to 
sustain  the  nullifying  act.  They  will  march,  sir,  under  a  very 
gallant  leader ;  for  I  believe  the  honorable  member  himself 
commands  the  militia  of  that  part  of  the  state.  He  will  raise 
the  NULLIFYING  ACT  on  his  standard,  and  spread  it  out  as  his 
banner.  It  will  have  a  preamble,  bearing  that  the  tariff  laws 
are  palpable,  deliberate,  and  dangerous  violations  of  the  Con 
stitution.  He  will  proceed,  with  his  banner  flying,  to  the  cus 
tom  house  in  Charleston, — 

'  all  the  while 
Sonorous  metal  blowing  martial  sounds.' 

Arrived  at  the  custom  house,  he  will  tell  the  collector  that  he 
must  collect  no  more  duties  under  any  of  the  tariff  laws.  This 
he  will  be  somewhat  puzzled  to  say,  by  the  way,  with  a  grave 
countenance,  considering  what  hand  South  Carolina  herself 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  17 

had  in  that  of  1816.  But,  sir,  the  collector  would,  probably, 
not  desist  at  his  bidding.  Here  would  ensue  a  pause ;  for  they 
say,  that  a  certain  stillness  precedes  the  tempest.  Before  this 
military  array  should  fall  on  the  custom  house,  collector, 
clerks,  and  all,  it  is  very  probable  some  of  those  composing  it 
would  request  of  their  gallant  commander-in-chief  to  be  in 
formed  a  little  upon  the  point  of  law ;  for  they  have  doubtless 
a  just  respect  for  his  opinions  as  a  lawyer,  as  well  as  for  his 
bravery  as  a  soldier.  They  know  he  has  read  Blackstone  and 
the  Constitution,  as  well  as  Turenne  and  Vauban.  They  would 
ask  him,  therefore,  something  concerning  their  rights  in  this 
matter.  They  would  inquire  whether  it  was  not  somewhat 
dangerous  to  resist  a  law  of  the  United  States.  What  would 
be  the  nature  of  their  offence,  they  would  wish  to  learn,  if 
they,  by  military  force  and  array,  resisted  the  execution  in 
Carolina  of  a  law  of  the  United  States,  and  it  should  turn  out, 
after  all,  that  the  law  was  constitutional.  He  would  answer, 
of  course,  treason.  No  lawyer  could  give  any  other  answer. 
John  Fries,  he  would  tell  them,  had  learned  that  some  years 
ago.  How,  then,  they  would  ask,  do  you  propose  to  defend 
us  ?  *  We  are  not  afraid  of  bullets,  but  treason  has  a  way  of 
taking  people  off  that  we  do  not  much  relish.  How  do  you 
propose  to  defend  us?7  'Look  at  my  floating  banner,'  he 
would  reply ;  '  see  there  the  nullifying  law  /'  '  It  is  your 
opinion,  gallant  commander,'  they  would  then  say,  '  that  if  WQ 
should  be  indicted  for  treason,  that  same  floating  banner  of 
yours  would  mafce  a  good  plea  in  bar  ?'  '  South  Carolina  is  a 
sovereign  state,'  he  would  reply.  '  That  is  true ;  but  would  the 


18  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

judge  admit  our  plea  ?'     *  These  tariff  laws,'  he  would  repeat 
'  are  unconstitutional.' 

********* 

"  That  Union  we  reached  only  by  the  discipline  of  oui 
virtues  in  the  severe  school  of  adversity.  It  had  its  origin  in 
the  necessities  of  disordered  finance,  prostrate  commerce,  and 
ruined  credit.  Under  its  benign  influence,  these  great  interests 
immediately  awoke,  as  from  the  dead,  and  sprang  forth  with 
newness  of  life.  Every  year  of  its  duration  has  teemed  with 
fresh  proofs  of  its  utility  and  its  blessings ;  and  although  our 
territory  has  stretched  out  wider  and  wider,  and  our  population 
spread  farther  and  farther,  they  have  not  outran  its  protection 
or  its  benefits.  It  has  been  to  us  all  a  copious  fountain  of 
national,  social,  personal  happiness.  I  have  not  allowed  my^ 
self,  sir,  to  look  beyond  the  Union,  to  see  what  might  lie 
hidden  in  the  dark  recesses  behind.  I  have  not  coolly  weighed 
the  chances  of  preserving  liberty,  when  the  bonds  that  unite 
us  together  shall  be  broken  asunder.  I  have  not  accustomed 
myself  to  hang  over  the  precipice  of  disunion,  to  see  whether, 
with  my  short  sight,  I  can  fathom  the  depth  of  the  abyss 
below ;  nor  could  I  regard  him  as  a  safe  counsellor  in  the 
affairs  of  this  government,  whose  thoughts  should  be  mainly 
bent  on  considering,  not  how  the  Union  should  be  best  pre 
served,  but  how  tolerable  might  be  the  condition  of  the  people 
when  it  shall  be  broken  up  and  destroyed.  While  the  Union 
lasts,  we  have  high,  exciting,  gratifying  prospects  spread  out 
before  us,  for  us  and  our  children.  Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to 
penetrate  the  veil.  God  grant  that,  in  my  day  at  least,  tha» 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  19 

curtain  may  not  rise.  God  grant  that  on  my  vision  never 
may  be  opened  what  lies  behind.  When  my  eyes  shall  be 
turned  to  behold,  for  the  last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I 
not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments 
of  a  once-glorious  Union ;  on  states  dissevered,  discordant, 
belligerent ;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it 
may  be,  in  fraternal  blood  !  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering 
glance,  rather,  behold  the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Republic,  now 
known  and  honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  ad 
vanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their  original  lustre, 
not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  nor  a  single  star  obscured — 
bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable  interrogatory  as,  What 
is  all  this  worth  ?  nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and  folly, 
Liberty  first,  and  Union  afterwards  ;  but  everywhere,  spread 
all  over  in  characters  of  living  light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample 
folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in  every 
wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment,  dear  to 
every  true  American  heart — Liberty  and  Union,  now  and  for 
ever,  one  and  inseparable !" 

2fot#. — It  is  is  scarcely  necessary  to  state,  that  the  above  sketch  was  written 
prior  to  the  decease  of  the  great  statesman  to  whom  it  refers. 

AUTHOB. 


20  CRAYON    SKETCHES,   AND 


HENRY  CLAY. 

EVERY  American  citizen,  who  has  arrived  at  years  of 
discretion,  must  be  familiar  with  the  remarkable  history  of 
Henry  Clay.  What  man  figured  more  conspicuously  in  Con 
gress  than  he  did  during  his  terms  of  service  there  ?  Who 
exerted  such  a  magnetic  and  potent  influence  over  the  Whig 
party  ?  Where  in  this  country  could  be  found  his  equal  for 
impassioned  eloquence  ?  Who  understood  better  than  he  did 
the  modern  history  of  the  diplomacy  of  nations  ?  He  was  a 
man  of  extraordinary  endowments,  courteous,  brave,  generous, 
and  urbane,  and  yet  opinionative,  arbitrary,  and  dogmatical. 
It  is  said,  that  on  a  certain  occasion,  while  Rufus  Choate  war 
a  member  of  the  United  States  Senate,  the  imperious  Kentuc- 
kian  made  the  Massachusetts  orator  shrink  to  his  seat,  in  the 
midst  of  a  speech,  by  simply  shaking  his  finger  at  him. 
What  a  sight !  Rufus  Choate  struck  dumb  by  the  pantomime 
:>f  Henry  Clay.  As  a  statesman  he  had  great  forecast,  save 
vhen  he  permitted  himself  to  become  a  candidate  for  the 
^residency ;  then  he  unwisely  hampered  himself  with  answers 
io  the  impertinent  inquiries  of  the  little  great  men  which 
flash  like  fire-flies  when  the  stars  are  shining. 

Had  he  been  a  Northern  man,  with  a  New  England  educa 
tion,  he  would  have  been  a  bolder  and  braver  herald  of 
freedom,  and  he  would  have  discountenanced  those  who  have 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  21 

botrayed  liberty  in  the  house  of  its  professed  friends  for  lesg 
than  thirty  pieces  of  silver;  renegades  who  have  crucified 
humanity — by  driving  in  the  rusty  nails  of  cruel  enactments 
and  putting  on  the  crown  of  bitter  shame.  He,  however,  was 
a  wise  statesman  and  a  magnificent  gentleman.  "  Peace  to 
his  ashes." 

Having  no  desire  whatever  to  dwell  on  that  unpleasant  side 
of  the  medal,  I  turn  to  a  theme  in  which  the  general  reader 
will  take  a  deeper  interest.  Henry  Clay  had  a  well  balanced 
temperament,  combining  vast  powers  of  origination  with 
great  force  and  activity.  Indolence  was  punishment  to  him. 
Mr.  Fowler,  the  justly  celebrated  phrenologist,  speaking  of 
him,  says,  "  He  also  had  great  elasticity  of  constitution ;  could 
endure  almost  anything."  He  was  tall — full  six  feet  in  his 
stockings,  I  should  think — stood  erect  as  the  towering  pines 
on  the  sandy  hills  of  his  native  state,  had  a  capacious  chest, 
sandy  complexion,  florid  countenance,  wide,  sensual  mouth, 
starry  eyes,  and  a  magnificent  forehead.  He  looked  the 
patrician.  Even  strangers  knew  at  a  glance  that  he  was  no 
ordinary  person.  Nature  had  put  a  mark  of  distinction  upon 
him,  and  pedestrians  would  stop  in  the  road  and  look  back 
after  him.  When  he  smiled,  the  infection  charmed  the  circle 
on  which  his  countenance  shone.  When  he  spoke,  he  had 
the  entire  nation  for  his  audience.  When  he  made  an  effort, 
there  was  a  vibration  throughout  the  Confederacy.  That  he 
was  an  ambitious  man,  and  desired  most  ardently  to  be  ele 
vated  to  the  highest  post  of  honor  his  country  could  offer 
him,  will  not  be  disputed  by  those  who  are  competent  to 


22  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

appreciate  his  speeches  and  his  sentiments.  He  was  born  to 
be  a  leader,  and  he  did  lead,  and  sometimes  drive.  He  drova 
his  cruel  omnibus  into  the  Senate,  and  would  have  hac 
scythes  upon  its  wheels,  if  Benton  had  not  knocked  them  off 
with  his  battering-ram. 

Mr.  Clay  was  noted  for  his  hospitality  and  great-hearted 
generosity.  He  was  fond  of  the  approbation  of  his  fellow- 
men,  and  would  often  put  himself  to  inconvenience  to  accom 
modate  those  even,  who  could  render  no  return  but  gratitude 
for  his  magnanimity.  Not  at  all  inclined  to  believe  in  the 
wonderful  and  marvelous,  and  not  being  overstocked  with 
veneration  for  religious  rites  and  ceremonies,  he  was  in  his 
earlier  days  regarded  as  a  dashing,  brilliant,  reckless,  gifted, 
and  graceless  young  man,  with  lofty  anticipations  that  would 
never  be  realized.  It  is  quite  evident  he  expected  notoriety, 
honor,  and  distinction,  and  his  career  proves  that  he  did  not 
over-estimate  his  abilities,  while  it  furnishes  positive  evidence 
that  his  expectations  were  not  often  disappointed.  Although 
a  popular  man,  who  moved  the  masses  and  even  the  sympa 
thies  of  the  poor  as  well  as  the  rich — while  he  was  naturally 
aristocratic  and  exclusive,  and  wished  all  to  ke-ap  at  a 
respectful  distance  from  him — he  was  accessible  and  sociable 
when  approached  through  proper  mediums.  No  one  at  all 
acquainted  with  him  could  fail  to  notice  his  unfaltering  firm 
ness  and  unyielding  perseverance.  Whatever  project  he 
undertook  was  pursued  with  volcanic  vigor  until  it  was  accom 
plished.  He  was  cautious,  without  being  timid — resolute,  but 
not  rash — firm,  but  not  obstinate.  He  could  mature  his  plans 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  23 

in  his  own  mind,  and  keep  them  shut  up  there  until  the  time 
came  for  their  development ;  hence  he  was  a  sage  politician 
— a  smart  tactician.  He  was  a  warm  friend,  and  a  cold,  dig 
nified  enemy ;  an  affectionate  husband  (when  addressing  a 
large  audience  of  beautiful  ladies,  a  short  time  previous  to  his 
decease,  he  told  them  they  were  very  handsome,  but  there 
was  an  old  lady  in  Ashland,  he  loved  more  than  he  loved 
them),  a  tender  father  (there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  death 
of  his  son,  on  the  Mexican  battle-field,  cut  him  to  the  heart, 
and  hastened  him  to  the  grave,  by  irritating  the  disease  to 
which  he  was  predisposed),^nd  an  appreciating  teacher  (he  edu 
cated  the  eminent  scholar  and  distinguished  orator,  Bascom). 
He  had  more  courage  than  cruelty,  and  would  defend  him 
self  when  assailed  with  a  degree  of  patriotic  pluck  which  was 
a  caution  to  the  invader.  The  love  of  money  was  not 
remarkable  in  him.  It  is  my  impression  that  he  left  only  a 
moderate  competency  behind  him.  In  his  younger  days,  he 
occasionally  indulged  in  games  of  chance,  not  for  the  profit 
but  for  the  excitement  of  the  game.  Gambling,  however,  is 
always  reprehensible,  and  no  excuse  can  whitewash  it  into 
innocent  amusement.  After  all,  it  was  his  mind  that  made 
him  such  an  attractive  man.  He  was  fond  of  the  sublime 
and  beautiful,  had  a  nice  discriminating  taste,  hence  his  lan 
guage  and  his  illustrations  were  chaste  and  elegant,  and  he 
became  the  most  eloquent  expounder  of  the  principles  of  his 
party.  The  magazines  are  filled  with  specimens  of  his  glow 
ing  imagery  and  subtle  reasoning.  It  was,  indeed,  a  rich 
treat  to  look  up  at  his  stalwart  form  and  listen  to  the  deep 


24  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

notes  that  pealed  from  his  organ-chest,  until  the  senate 
chamber  rang  with  the  mighty  magic  of  his  unapproachable 
eloquence.  He  had  not  the  massive  grandeur  of  Webster, 
but  he  was  more  acute  in  his  argument,  and  had  a  more 
gracious  manner  of  delivery.  He  did  not  display  the 
scholarship  of  Benton,  but  he  had  a  richer  fancy  and  more 
declamatory  power,  and  far  exceeded  him.  in  matters  of  diplo 
macy.  Without  the  calmness  of  Cass,  he  always  commanded 
more  attention  in  Congress  than  the  great  giant  of  Michigan. 

Perhaps  he  may  be  called,  the  Canning  of  America; 
although  his  style  is  peculiar  to* himself,  there  is  the  same 
fascinating  finish — the  same  mingling  of  pathos  and  poetry, 
argument  and  invective.  He  was  rapid,  forcible,  brilliant, 
piercing.  His  wit  was  always  refined  as  attic  salt,  his  humor 
perfectly  irresistible,  though  seldom  indulged,  his  invective  as 
rankling  as  the  bite  of  an  adder.  Now  he  sounded  the  deep 
sea  of  passion — then  he  soared  to  the  sky  of  fancy.  Ho 
would  have  shone  in  Parliament  with  such  men  as  Pitt,  Fox, 
Burke,  and  Sheridan. 

His  mind  was  not  like  the  eye  of  Cyclops,  "  letting  in  a 
flood  of  rushing  and  furious  splendor,"  but  a  Drummond  light, 
illuminating  without  impairing  what  it  shone  upon.  His  let 
ters  are  lucid,  terse,  fluent,  courteous,  classical,  with  the  heart 
of  their  author  throbbing  in  them.  His  collected  speeches 
form  volumes  of  American  eloquence,  which  should  be  found 
in  every  well-appointed  library  in  our  land.  The  last 
speeches  he  made  breathe  the  same  youthful  vigcr  of  his 
earlier  efforts,  and  the  reader  never  thinks  that  the  speaker  was 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  25 

a  venerable  white-haired  man ;  indeed,  his  heart  never  became 
grey.  If  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  may  be  called  an 
aviary  of  birds  of  prey,  he  was  the  eagle  in  that  aviary ;  if 
it  may  be  termed  a  menagerie,  he  was  the  lion  of  that 
menagerie.  It  is  to  be  deeply  deplored  that  such  a  man  was 
a  slaveholder,  that  he  lived  and  died  a  defender  of  slavery ; 
that  he  c\er  countenanced  in  any  way  the  cruel  code  of 
honor  which  demands  a  man  to  make  a  martyr  of  himself  to 
"  preserve  his  honor  unsullied." 

I  here  annex  a  specimen  of  the  style  of  Mr.  Clay's  oratory : — 

Hon.  Henry  Clay's  appeal  in  behalf  of  Greece. 

"  Mr.  Chairman : — There  is  reason  to  apprehend  that  a  tre 
mendous  storm  is  ready  to  burst  upon  our  unhappy  country 
— one  which  may  call  into  action  all  our  vigor,  courage,  and 
resources.  Is  it  wise  or  prudent,  then,  sir,  in  preparing  to 
breast  the  storm,  if  it  must  come,  to  talk  to  this  nation  of  its 
mcompetency  to  repel  European  aggression,  to  lower  its  spirit, 
to  weaken  its  moral  energy,  and  to  qualify  it  for  easy  conquest, 
and  base  submission !  If  there  be  any  reality  in  the  dangers 
which  are  supposed  to  encompass  us,  should  we  not  animate 
the  people  and  adjure  them  to  believe,  as  I  do,  that  our  re 
sources  are  ample,  and  that  we  can  bring  into  the  field  a 
million  of  freemen  ready  to  expend  their  last  drop  of  blood, 
and  to  spend  their  last  cent  in  the  defence  of  their  country, 
its  liberty  and  its  institutions  ? 

"  Sir,  are  we,  if  united,  to  be  conquered  by  all  Europe  com- 
b\i*eci  ?  No,  sir,  no  united  nation  that  resolves  to  be  free  can 

2 


26  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

be  conquered.  And  has  it  come  to  this  ?  Are  we  so  humble, 
so  low,  so  debased,  that  we  dare  not  express  our  sympathy  for 
suffering  Greece ;  that  we  dare  not  articulate  our  detestation 
of  the  brutal  exercise  of  which  she  has  been  the  bleeding  vic 
tim,  lest  we  might  offend  one  or  more  of  their  imperial  and 
royal  majesties  ?  Are  we  so  mean,  so  base,  so  despicable,  that 
we  may  not  attempt  to  express  our  horror,  utter  our  indigna 
tion  at  the  most  brutal  and  atrocious  war  that  ever  stained 
earth  or  shocked  high  heaven ;  at  the  ferocious  deeds  of  a 
savage  and  infuriated  soldiery,  stimulated  and  urged  on  by  the 
clergy  of  a  fanatical  and  inimical  religion,  and  rioting  in  all 
the  excesses  of  blood  and  butchery,  at  the  mere  details  of 
which  the  heart  sickens  and  recoils  ? 

"  But,  sir,  it  is  not  for  Greece  alone  that  I  desire  to  see  the 
measure  adopted,  it  will  give  her  but  little  support,  and  that 
purely  of  a  moral  kind.  It  is  principally  for  America — for  the 
credit  and  character  of  our  common  country,  for  our  own  un 
sullied  name,  that  I  hope  to  see  it  pass.  What  appearance, 
Mr.  Chairman,  on  the  page  of  history,  would  a  record  like  this 
exhibit  ? — *  In  the  month  of  January,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour  1824,  while  all  European  Christendom  beheld  with 
cold  and  unfeeling  indifference,  the  unexampled  wrongs  and 
inexpressible  misery  of  Christian  Greece,  a  proposition  was 
made  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  almost  the  sole, 
the  last,  the  greatest  depository  cf  human  hope  and  freedom, 
the  representatives  of  a  gallant  nation,  containing  a  million  of 
freemen  ready  to  fly  to  arms,  while  the  people  of  that  nation 
were  spontaneously  expressing  its  deep-toned  feeling,  and  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  21 

whole  continent,  by  one  simultaneous  emotion,  was  rising  and 
solemnly  and  anxiously  supplicating  and  invoking  high  heaven 
to  spare'  and  succor  Greece,  and  to  invigorate  her  arms,  in  her 
glorious  cause ; — while  temples  and  senate-houses  were  alike 
resounding  with  one  burst  of  generous  and  holy  sympathy ; 
in  the  year  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour — that  Saviour  of  Greece 
and  of  us — a  proposition  was  offered  in  the  American  Congress 
to  send  a  message  to  Greece,  to  inquire  into  her  state  and 
condition,  with  a  kind  expression  of  our  good  wishes  and  our 
sympathies — and  it  was  rejected !' 

"  Go  home,  if  you  can,  go  home,  if  you  dare,  to  your  con 
stituents,  and  tell  them  that  you  voted  it  down.  Meet,  if  you 
can,  the  appalling  countenances  of  those  who  sent  you  here, 
and  tell  them  that  you  shrunk  from  the  declaration  of  your 
own  sentiments ;  that  you  cannot  tell  how,  but  that  some  un 
known  dread,  some  indescribable  apprehension,  some  indefinite 
danger,  drove  you  from  your  purpose  ;  that  the  spectres  of 
scimitars,  and  crowns,  and  crescents,  gleamed  before  you,  and 
alarmed  you  ;  and  that  you  suppressed  all  the  noble  feelings 
prompted  by  religion,  by  liberty,  by  national  independence, 
and  by  humanity. 

"  I  cannot,  sir,  bring  myself  to  believe  that  such  will  be  the 
feelings  of  a  majority  of  this  committee.  But  for  myself, 
though  every  friend  of  the  cause  should  desert  it,  and  I  be  left 
to  stand  alone  with  the  gentleman  from  Massachusetts,  I  will 
give  to  his  resolution  the  poor  sanction  of  my  unqualified 
approbation.'' 


28  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


EDAHN  H.  CHAPIN. 

EDWIN  H.  CHAPIN  is  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  eloquent 
expounders  and  defenders  of  the  doctrine  of  unlimited  salva 
tion.  He  has  no  faith  in  the  old  black  fellow  who  keeps  the 
fire-office.  He  imagines  that  poets  and  divines  give  him 
more  credit  for  sagacity  and  potency  than  he  deserves,  and 
that  if  he  ever  was  a  genius  he  is  now  in  his  dotage,  and, 
furthermore,  that  he  has  not  goodness  enough  to  be  entitled 
to  our  respect,  nor  influence  sufficient  over  our  future  destiny 
to  alarm  our  fears.  To  him  a  devil  by  any  other  name  is  just 
as  dreadful,  and  the  Satan  he  endeavors  to  subdue  he  calls 
Evil,  Sin,  Crime,  Vice,  Error.  He  thinks  the  distillery,  where 
the  worm  dieth  not  and  the  fires  are  unquenched,  is  a  hell  on 
earth,  which  causes  weeping,  wailing,  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 

Mr.  Chapin  is  an  independent,  straight-forward  man,  who 
has  a  will  and  a  way  of  his  own,  and  he  is  willing  to  allow 
others  the  same  freedom  he  assumes  himself.  He  does  not 
expect  his  church  to  cough  when  he  takes  cold,  nor  to  acqui 
esce  in  silent  submission  to  every  proposition  that  he  makes. 
He  is  not  a  theological  tyrant,  threatening  vengeance,  and 
outer- darkness,  and  eternal  fire,  to  all  the  members  of  his 
flock  who  will  not  uncomplainingly  and  unhesitatingly  yield 
to  his  spiritual  supervisorship.  His  lessons  and  lectures  may 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  2P 

sometimes  smell  of  the  lamp,  but  they  never  smell  of  brim 
stone.  His  education,  his  temperament,  his  organization  of 
brain,>  his  natural  benevolence,  and  the  society  in  which  he 
has  lived,  moved,  and  had  his  being,  have  contributed  to 
make  him  a  preacher  of  the  gospel.  He  advocates  with 
heroic  courage  and  untiring  zeal  the  doctrines  of  his  faith,  but 
is  universally  respected  by  all  denominations  of  professing 
Christians. 

Mr.  Chapin,  is  happily  constituted.  The  animal  and  the 
angel  of  his  nature  are  so  nicely  balanced,  and  his  poetical 
temperament  is  so  admirably  controlled  by  his  practical 
knowledge,  that  his  intellectual  efforts  are  invariably  stamped 
with  the  mint-mark  of  true  currency.  There  is  harmonious 
blending  of  the  poetical  and  the  practical,  a  pleasant  union 
of  the  material  with  the  spiritual,  an  arm-in-arm  connection 
of  the  ornamental  and  useful,  a  body  and  soul  joined  together 
in  his  discourses.  He  avoids  two  extremes,  and  is  not  so 
material  as  to  be  cloddish,  of  the  earth  earthy,  nor  so  aerial  as 
to  be  vapory,  or  of  the  clouds  cloudy.  There  is  something 
tangible,  solid,  nutritious,  and  enduring  in  his  sermons.  He 
is  not  profound  in  the  learning  of  the  schools.  Many  of  In* 
inferiors  could  master  him  on  doctrinal  questions.  The  out- 
bursting  and  overwhelming  effusions  of  his  natural  eloquence, 
the  striking  originality  of  his  conceptions,  the  irresistible 
power  of  his  captivating  voice,  the  vivid  and  copious  display 
of  illustration,  thrill  and  charm  the  appreciative  hearer.  He 
presents  his  arguments  and  appeals  with  an  articulation  as 
distinct  anj  understandable  as  his  gesticulation  is  awkward. 


30  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

He  is  sometimes  abrupt,  rapid,  and  vehement,  but  never  "  tears 
a  passion  to  tatters."  "  His  tenacious  memory  enables  him  to 
quote  with  great  promptitude,  and  he  has  that  delicate,  sensi 
tive  taste  which  enables  him  to  select,  with  unerring  precision, 
whatever  is  truly  sublime  and  beautiful." 

Mr.  Chapin  declaims  splendidly,  in  spite  of  his  hands, 
which  are  always  in  his  way.  The  stiff  and  technical  re 
straints  of  style,  which  disfigure  the  pulpit  efforts  of  some 
divines,  never  appear  in  his  sermons,  but  seem  rather  to  pinion 
his  elbows  and  cramp  his  fingers.  He  has  a  fervid  imagina 
tion,  great  facility  of  expression,  is  scrupulously  correct  in  his 
pronunciation ;  never  indulges  in  hypocritical  cant.  There  is 
no  theatrical  uplifting  of  the  hands  and  uprolling  of  the  eyes, 
so  frequently  witnessed  in  the  hysteric  raptures  of  mahogany 
orators.  He  seems  to  have  a  thorough  knowledge  of  his 
subject,  and  commands  your  admiration  by  the  kingly  majesty 
and  sublime  beauty  of  his  thought.  Now  he  flings  a  page  of 
meaning  into  a  single  aphorism, — now  he  electrifies  his  spell 
bound  hearers  with  a  spontaneous  burst  of  eloquence, — now 
he  dissolves  their  eyes  to  tears  by  a  wizard  stroke  of  pathos, 
— now  he  controls  their  hearts  with  the  sovereign  power  of  a 
monarch  who  rules  the  mind-realm.  "He  infuses  his  soul 
into  his  voice,  and  both  into  the  nerves  and  heart  of  the 
hearer." 

In  person,  he  is  stout,  fleshy,  and  well-proportioned.  He 
has  a  full,  florid  face,  which  indicates  good  health  and  happy 
contentment ;  countenance  mild,  benignant  and  thoughtful, 
**'  b  *n  expression  of  integrity,  denoting  his  inability  to  par- 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  31 

form  a  mean  action ;  is  near-sighted,  and  this  defect  is  no 
small  disadvantage  to  him  when  he  reads,  and  may  account 
for  his  ungraceful  action  in  the  pulpit,  since  it  compels  him  to 
face  his  manuscript  so  closely,  he  almost  eats  his  own  words, 
and  salutes  his  own  rich  figures  and  glowing  sentiments,  and 
fulfils  literally  the  scripture  maxim,  "  He  shall  kiss  his  own  lips 
who  giveth  a  correct  answer."  As  I  have  just  intimated,  he 
usually  reads  his  discourses,  although  he  is  an  easy  extempo 
raneous  speaker ;  but  he  is  apt  to  become  so  intensely  excited 
he  rarely  trusts  to  his  impulses.  He  commands  a  very  ready 
pen,  and  is  the  author  of  two  or  three  small  volumes,  which 
are  widely  circulated.  His  hair  is  dark  brown.  He  wears 
glasses,  so  I  cannot  tell  the  color  of  his  eyes ;  has  a  broad, 
high  forehead,  indicating  the  intellectual  strength  of  ita 
owner ;  is  now  about  forty  years  of  age,  and  has  labored  with 
honor  and  success  for  many  years,  in  Richmond,  Va.,  Charles- 
town,  Mass.,  as  well  as  Boston,  but  is  now  preaching  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  where  he  is  very  popular  and  useful. 

Mr.  Chapin  has  recently  delivered  a  number  of  discourses, 
illustrating  the  phases  and  corruptions  of  city  life.  We  give 
below  a  few  extracts  from  some  of  his  lectures  ;  although  it  is 
but  just  to  say  that  they  have  been  taken  from  reports  and 
sketches,  and  not  from  any  revised  or  complete  publication  by 
the  author,  who  is  now  preparing  them  for  the  press  of  D.  &  D. 

Here  is  an  extract  from  his  remarks  made  respecting  the 
fearful  catastrophe  on  the  New  Haven  Railroad. 

"  A  natural  and  I  believe  a  proper  impulse  breathes  in  the 
old  petition,  "From  sudden  death,  good  Lord,  deliver  us!" 


32  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

At  least  from  death  in  such  a  form  ? — Always  solemn  in  ita 
presence,  it  brings  with  it,  often,  reconciling  tenderness  and 
majesty.  There  is  consolation  in  dying  at  home — a  complete 
ness  of  circumstances,  which  is  in  harmony  with  the  falling 
leaf  and  up-springing  grass,  and  all  those  inevitable  yet 
beneficent  processes  of  nature,  which  steady  our  hearts  and 
assure  our  faith.  There  is  a  sweet  anguish  springing  up  in 
our  bosoms  when  a  child's  face  brightens  under  the  shadow 
of  the  waiting  angel.  There  is  an  autumnal  fitness  when  age 
gives  up  the  ghost ;  and  when  the  saint  dies  there  is  a  tearful 
victory.  "Without  recklessness,  yet  with  intrepid  determina 
tion,  we  feel  that  we  carry  our  lives  in  our  hands,  as  we  go 
into  a  battle,  or  walk  by  the  skirts  of  the  pestilence.  But  to 
have  life  battered  out  in  an  instant ;  to  have  death's  darkness 
overwhelm  us  with  one  plunge,  and  the  rush  of  waters ;  to  have 
the  vital  instrument  beating  with  the  full  consciousness  of  its 
own  existence,  and  the  next,  stopped  by  a  horror  that 
petrifies  itself  in  the  dead  form,  and  that  carves  itself  upon 
the  dead  face,  as  with  a  sculptor's  chisel ;  is  a  violation  of  our 
nature. 

"  But  out  of  this  specific  experience  in  life  there  arises 
another  consideration,  which  is  never  out  of  place.  It  is  that 
sober  balance  of  mind  which  we  should  always  preserve.  I 
have  shown  that  the  Christian  looks  upon  our  present  existence 
with  no  mean  or  gloomy  vision.  Many  are  the  joys  and  the 
blessings  of  life,  and  he  who  shrouds  them  with  ascetic  melan 
choly,  is  as  ungrateful  as  he  is  unwise.  But  if,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  are  inclined  to  forget  that  tritest  of  facts — that  all 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  33 

these  joys  and  blessings  are  held  in  uncertainty  ;  that  fact  is 
forced  upon  us  by  calamities  like  this.  What  hopes,  what 
associations,  what  schemes,  went  forth  that  morning  in  the 
crowded  train  ?  Upon  what  a  wreck  did  that  day's  noon  look 
down  !  What  bright  plans  dashed  into  darkness !  What 
bounding  hearts  stopped  by  the  sudden  flood  !  What  dreams 
instantly  breaking  into  the  great  Reality !  Ye  cannot  tell  us 
now,  who,  but  a  week  ago,  sat  side  by  side  with  loved 
ones  in  the  quiet  New  England  Sabbath,  whose  graves  to-day 
will  drink  the  Sabbath  rain.  Ye  cannot  tell  who,  ministers  of 
healing  to  so  many,  had  for  yourselves  such  ghastly  death-beds, 
and  heard,  it  may  be,  the  cheering  of  the  festal  hall  blend  with 
the  thundering  doom.  Thou  canst  not  tell  whose  marriage 
covenant  was  sealed  with  the  kiss  of  death,  and  who  came  up 
from  the  waters  with  dripping  bridal-robes.  Sharp  lesson  of 
uncertainty,  crashing  upon  our  ears,  and  causing  all  the  secu 
rities  of  our  life  to  topple  ;  out  of  whose  confusion  issues  the 
solemn  text — '  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow  ;  for  thou  know- 
est  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth  !'  Teach  us,  while  we  grasp 
our  joys  with  due  appreciation,  to  temper  them  with  serious 
ness,  and  to  live  with  prepared  hearts. 

******* 
"  And  against  this  recklessness,  I  repeat,  provision  should 
be  made   by  every  measure  which  will  enforce  respect  for 
human  life — a  sentiment  which,  I  am  grieved  to  say,  needs  to 
be  more  widely  and  deeply  felt  in  our  age  and  our  country. 
Life  is  precious.     It  is  a  priceless  freight  which  you  bear  in 
those  rushing  cars,  oh  !  driving  engineer — a  freight  of  warm 
2* 


84  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

blood,  and  beating  hearts,  and  dear  relations'  lives.  The  engine 
that  pants  before  with  throbbing  breast,  and  arteries  of  fire,  is 
but  a  poor  symbol  of  the  precious  vitality  and  curious  work 
manship  of  the  meanest  life  that  it  drags  along.  An  unsteady 
brain,  a  deceit  of  the  eye,  a  slight  risk,  and  the  wealth  of  exist 
ence  committed  to  your  charge  is  shattered  to  ruin.  And  is 
it  not  right  that  the  community,  that  fathers,  and  wives,  and 
brothers,  and  sons  should  hold  you  stringently  bound  to  all 
the  responsibilities  of  your  office,  and  refuse  to  cast  upon 
Providence  the  burden  of  your  fault?  Something  besides 
profit  and  the  price  of  stock  must  enter  into  your  account,  O  ! 
iron-hearted  corporation.  Against  dollars  you  must  balance 
life ;  and  if  a  little  gain  is  of  more  consequence  than  a  bolt 
more  firmly  driven,  or  an  additional  officer  at  a  dangerous 
point,  say  not  that  the  community  acts  merely  under  excite 
ment  if  it  cuts  the  nerves  by  which  corporations  do  feel." 

The  following  fine  passage  occurs  in  his  sermon  on  the  Vice 
of  Great  Cities. 

"  A  young  man  now,  when  he  gets  in  town,  is  too  great 
entirely  to  retain  any  regard  for  parental  authority.  His  father 
is  no  longer  such — he  turns  into  the  *  old  man.'  The  mother 
is  also  carelessly  treated,  and  thus  ties  are  weakened  or  broken 
which  should  never  end  but  with  death,  and  sometimes  even 
then  they  scarce  end ;  for  when  misfortune  meets  you  or  dis 
grace  comes  on,  what  heart  beats  the  truest  for,  and  clings 
closer  to  you  in  disgrace,  in  ruin,  in  poverty,  even  at  the  verge 
of  death,  but  the  mother's  ?  You,  young  men,  should  be  care 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  35 

ful  of  yielding  to  the  first  temptation,  for  it  is  in  that  th« 
clanger  is.  No  one  when  he  first  took  drink  ever  intended  to 
become  a  drunkard,  and  yet  we  have  seen  intemperance  so 
gain  on  men,  that  it  narrowed  and  narrowed,  till  it  encased 
them,  as  it  were,  in  an  iron  shroud,  which  crushes  and  kills. 
I  have  read  a  very  impressive  tale  of  a  young  man  who  was 
confined  in  a  dungeon  having  seven  windows,  but  which  was 
made  of  iron.  On  the  second  morning  after  he  went  there  he 
found  but  six.  He  suspected  something,  and  watched,  and 
the  next  day  there  were  but  five,  and  his  food  and  bed  changed. 
So  it  went  on  changing  from  day  to  day,  till  he  had  but  cn*» 
window,  and  immediately  the  bells  began  to  ring,  and  he  then 
knew  he  was  fast  enclosed  in  that  tower  by  his  enemy,  in 
order  to  be  crushed  to  death  by  a  slow  and  tormenting  process." 

After  some  further  remarks  on  the  right  of  females  to 
an  equality  in  everything  with  the  male  portion  of  society, 
he  concluded  by  again  exhorting  the  youth  to  beware  of  yield 
ing  to  the  first  temptation. 

With  this  gem  which  I  tear  from  its  setting  in  a  recent 
sermon,  on  "  City  and  Country,"  I  must  close  this  sketch. 

"  The  pleasures  of  a  country  life,  moreover,  are  enhanced, 
by  having  the  city,  with  its  intelligence  and  facilities  within 
reach.  Is  is  comfortable  to  have  one's  retirement  tapped  by 
the  railroad,  and  connected  by  telegraphic  wires ;  and  the 
murmur  of  the  trees  mingles  pleasantly  with  the  hum  of  popu 
lar  applause.  To  the  country  belong  all  the  aspects  and  influ 
ences  of  nature — of  valley  and  woodland,  of  rock  and  river. 


36  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

the  fitting  stillness  of  night,  tne  pomp  of  morning,  the  inex 
pressible  loveliness  it  pictures  ever  new,  and  all  the  glories  of 
the  punctual  year.  The  poet's  line  one  cannot  help  quoting 
here,  *  God  made  the  country,  but  man  made  the  town,'  and 
it  has  doubtless  a  true  signification ;  it  really  extends  to  Divine 
works  that  stand  far  above  any  human  achievement ;  and 
when  one  is  sick  and  tired  with  routine — when  he  is  dazzled 
by  the  shows,  or  troubled  by  the  afflictions  of  life — let  him  go 
out  into  the  calm  breadth  of  nature,  and  confer  with  realities 
that  are  fresh  and  unabused,  as  they  came  from  the  hand  of 
the  Maker.  Whatever  is  inspiring  in  mountains,  lovely  in  the 
reach  of  landscape,  or  impressive  in  the  still  woods,  will  serve 
his  deliverance  from  weariness  and  distaste.  Let  the  medita 
tive  man  pass  out  from  tangled  controversies  into  the  harmo 
nies  of  the  universe.  Let  the  man  injured  by  the  follies  and 
nonsense  of  books,  recover  health  in  studying  the  stereotypes 
of  God ;  what  revolution,  what  history  is  written  in  every 
wrinkle  of  the  earth;  what  mysteries  in  all  the  unrolled 
heavens ;  and  let  vice  and  sordidness,  and  all  the  brood  of  evil 
passions  and  canker,  go  and  be  rebuked  by  the  holy  presence 
which  is  so  evident  in  the  air  and  sky.  '  God  made  the  coun 
try,'  and  all  around  it  keeps  the  stamp  of  the  Maker ;  but  man 
1  makes  the  town,'  and  fabrics  of  stone  and  brick,  which  shall 
crumble  away.  However,  this  fact  suggests  to  us  to  consult  a 
deeper  truth." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  37 


JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT. 

ONE  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  modern  times  is  John 
Charles  Fremont,  Thomas  Benton's  son-in-law.  He  has  reso 
lution,  no  obstacle  can  sway ;  bravery,  no  danger  can  intimi 
date  ;  enterprise,  no  undertaking  can  over-match. 

Having  a  strong  wish  to  hang  his  portrait  on  the  walls  of 
my  little  volume,  I  take  the  following  sketch  from  the  "  Gal 
lery  of  Illustrious  Americans." 

"  The  feet  of  three  men  have  pressed  the  slopes  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  whose  names  are  associated  for  ever  with 
those  vast  ranges  ;  Humboldt,  the  Nestor  of  scientific  travel 
lers;  Audubon,  the  Interpreter  of  Nature,  and  Fremont, 
the  Pathfinder  of  Empire.  Each  has  done  much  to  illus 
trate  the  Natural  History  of  North  America,  and  to 
develope  its  illimitable  resources.  The  youngest  of  all  is  likely 
to  become  as  illustrious  as  either,  for  fortune  has  linked  his 
name  with  a  scene  in  the  history  of  the  Republic,  as  startling 
to  the  world  as  the  first  announcement  of  its  existence.  To  his 
hands  was  committed  the  magnificent  task  of  opening  the  gates 
of  our  Pacific  Empire.  His  father  was  an  emigrant  gentleman 
from  France,  and  his  mother  a  lady  of  Virginia.  Although 
his  father's  death  left  him  an  orphan  in  his  fourth  year, 
he  was  thoroughly  educated ;  and  when,  at  the  age  of  seventeen. 


38  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

he  graduated  at  Charleston  College,  he  contributed  to  the 
support  of  his  mother  and  her  younger  children.  From  teach 
ing  mathematics  he  turned  his  attention  to  civil  engineering, 
in  which  he  displayed  so  much  talent,  he  was  recommended  by 
Mr.  Poinsett,  Secretary  of  War,  to  Nicollet,  as  his  assistant  in 
the  survey  of  the  basin  of  the  upper  Mississippi.  Two  years 
he  was  with  that  learned  man  in  his  field  of  labors,  and 
he  won  his  applause  and  friendship.  On  his  return  to  Wash 
ington,  he  continued  his  services  to  the  geographer  for  two 
years  longer,  in  drawing  up  from  his  field-book,  the  great  map 
which  unfolded  to  science  the  vast  tract  they  had  explored. 
Thirsting  for  .adventure,  he  now  planned  the  first  of  those  dis 
tant  and  perilous  expeditions  which  have  given  lustre  to  his 
name.  Having  received  a  lieutenant's  commission  in  the  corps 
of  Topographical  Engineers,  he  proposed  to  the  Secretary  of 
War  to  penetrate  the  Rocky  Mountains.  His  plan  was 
approved,  and  in  1842,  with  a  handful  of  men,  gathered  on 
the  Missouri  frontier,  he  reached  and  explored  the  South  Pass. 
He  achieved  more  than  his  instructions  required.  He  not 
only  fixed  the  locality  and  character  of  that  great  Pass,  through 
which  myriads  are  now  pressing  to  California — he  defined  the 
astronomy,  geography,  botany,  geology  and  meteorology  of 
the  country,  and  designated  the  route  since  followed,  and 
the  points  from  which  the  flag  of  the  Union  is  now  flying 
from  a  chain  of  wilderness  fortresses. 

"His  report  was  printed  by  the  Senate,  translated  into 
foreign  languages,  and  the  scientific  world  looked  on  Fremont 
as  one  of  its  benefactors.  Impatient,  however,  for  broader  and 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  39 

more  hazardous  fields,  he  planned  a  new  expedition  to  the 
distant  territory  of  Oregon.  His  first  had  carried  him  to  the 
summits  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Wilkes  had  surveyed  the 
tide-water  regions  of  the  Columbia  river ;  between  the  two 
explorers  lay  a  tract  of  a  thousand  miles,  which  was  a  blank 
in  geography. 

"In  May,  1843,  he  left  the  frontier  of  Missouri,  and  in 
November  he  stood  on  Fort  Vancouver,  with  the  calm  waters 
of  the  Pacific  at  his  feet.  He  had  approached  the  mountains 
by  a  new  line,  scaled  their  summits  south  of  the  South  Pass, 
deflected  to  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  pushed  examinations 
right  and  left  along  his  entire  course.  He  joined  his  survey  to 
Wilkes'  Exploring  Expedition,  and  his  orders  were  fulfilled. 
But  he  had  opened  one  route  to  the  Columbia,  and  he  wished 
to  find  another.  There  was  a  vast  region  south  of  his  line, 
invested  with  a  fabulous  interest,  and  he  longed  to  apply  to  it 
the  test  of  science.  It  was  the  beginning  of  winter.  With 
out  resources,  adequate  supplies,  or  even  a  guide,  and  with  only 
twenty-five  companions,  he  turned  his  face  once  more  towards 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  Then  began  that  wonderful  Expedi 
tion,  filled  with  romance,  achievement,  daring,  and  suffering, 
in  which  he  was  lost  from  the  world  nine  months,  traversing 
3,500  miles  in  sight  of  eternal  snows ;  in  which  he  explored 
and  revealed  the  grand  features  of  Alta  California,  its  great 
basin,  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  valleys  of  San  Joaquin  and 
Sacramento,  explored  the  fabulous  Buenaventura,  revealed  the 
real  El  Dorado,  and  established  the  geography  of  the  Western 


40  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

part  of  our  continent.  In  August,  1844,  he  was  again  ir 
Washington,  after  an  absence  of  sixteen  months.  His  Report 
put  the  seal  to  the  fame  of  the  young  explorer. 

"  He  was  planning  a  third  Expedition  while  writing  a 
history  of  the  second;  and  before  its  publication,  in  1845,  ho 
was  again  on  his  way  to  the  Pacific,  collecting  his  mountain 
comrades,  to  examine  in  detail  the  Asiatic  slope  of  the  North 
American  Continent,  which  resulted  in  giving  a  new  volume 
of  science  to  the  world,  and  California  to  the  United  States. 
We  cannot  trace  his  achievements  during  the  war  with 
Mexico,  nor  will  future  times  inquire  how  many  and  how 
great  battles  he  fought.  After  the  conquest  of  California, 
Fremont  was  made  the  victim  of  a  quarrel  between  two 
American  commanders.  Like  Columbus,  he  was  brought 
home  a  prisoner  over  the  vast  territory  he  had  explored ; 
stripped  by  a  court-martial  of  his  commission,  as  Lieut.-Colonel 
of  Mounted  Riflemen,  and  re-instated  by  the  President.  Fre 
mont  needed  justice,  not  mercy,  and  he  returned  his  com 
mission.  His  defence  was  worthy  of  a  man  of  honor,  genius, 
and  learning.  During  the  ninety  days  of  his  trial,  his  nights 
were  given  to  science. 

"  Thus  ended  his  services  to  the  Government,  but  not  to 
mankind.  He  was  now  a  private  citizen,  and  a  poor  man. 
Charleston  offered  him  a  lucrative  office,  which  he  refused. 
He  had  been  brought  a  criminal  from  California,  where  he 
had  been  Explorer,  Conqueror,  Peacemaker,  and  Governor. 
lie  determined  to  retrieve  IPS  honor  on  the  field  where  be 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  41 

had  been  robbed  of  it.  One  line  more  wo-ard  complete  hia 
surveys — the  route  for  a  great  road  from  the  Mississippi  to 
San  Francisco. 

"Again  he  appeared  on  the  far  West.  His  old  moun 
taineers  flocked  around  him,  and  with  33  men  and  130 
mules,  perfectly  equipped,  he  started  for  the  Pacific.  On  the 
Sierra  San  Juan,  all  his  mules  and  a  third  of  his  men  perished 
in  a  more  than  Russian  cold ;  and  Fremont  arrived  on  foot 
at  Santa  Fe,  stripped  of  everything  but  life.  It  was  a  moment 
for  the  last  pang  of  despair  which  breaks  the  heart,  or  the 
moral  heroism  which  conquers  Fate  itself.  The  men  of  the 
wilderness  knew  Fremont ;  they  refitted  his  expedition ;  he 
started  again,  pierced  the  country  of  the  fierce  and  remorse 
less  Apaches  ;  met,  awed  or  defeated  savage  tribes  ;  and  in  a 
hundred  days  from  Santa  Fe,  he  stood  on  the  glittering  banks 
of  the  Sacramento.  The  men  of  California  reversed  the 
judgment  of  the  court-martial ;  and  Fremont  was  made  the 
first  Senator  of  the  Golden  State.  It  was  a  noble  tribute  to 
science  and  heroism. 

"  His  name  is  identified  for  ever  with  some  of  the  proudest 
and  most  grateful  passages  in  American  History.  His  twenty 
thousand  miles  of  wilderness  explorations,  in  the  midst  of  the 
inclemencies  of  nature,  and  the  ferocities  of  jealous  and 
merciless  tribes ;  his  powers  of  endurance  in  a  slender  form ; 
his  intrepid  coolness  in  the  most  appalling  dangers;  his 
magnetic  sway  over  enlightened  and  savage  men;  his  vast 
contributions  to  science  ;  his  controlling  energy  in  the  exten 
sion  of  our  empire ;  his  lofty  and  unsullied  ambition ;  hia 


42  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

magnanimity,  humanity,  genius,  sufferings,  and  heroism,  make 
all  lovers  of  progress,  learning  and  virtue,  rejoice  that  Fre 
mont's  services  have  been  rewarded  by  high  civic  honors, 
exhaustW*  wealth,  and  the  admiration  and  gratitude  of  man 
kind." 


OFF-IIAND    TAKINGS.  43 


GEO.  P.  MORRIS,  N.  P.  WILLIS, 

JUPGE  NOAH,  "PETER  PARLEY,"  AND  LONGFELLOW. 

THE  following  characteristic  article  from  the  pen  of  Doctor 
John  Ross  Dix,  was  written,  at  my  request,  expressly  for  this 
volume.  I  am  sure  the  reader  will  thank  him  a  thousand 
times  for  introducing  to  the  public  in  such  a  handsome 
manner  the  noted  gentlemen  whom  he  so  graphically  des- 
scribes. 

I  had  been  about  a  week  or  ten  days  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  when,  having  got  rid  of  the  lassitude  which  the  intense 
and  unaccustomed  heat  induced,  I  made  arrangements  for 
presenting  some  of  the  letters  of  introduction  with  which  I 
had  been  provided  in  England.  Selecting  a  few  from  the 
bundle,  I  tripped  down  the  steps  of  the  "  Astor,"  and  cross 
ing  that  world-renowned  thoroughfare,  Broadway,  entered  the 
Park,  passed  by  the  fountain  which  played,  encircled  by  rain 
bows,  beneath  the  bluest  of  skies  and  in  the  clearest  of 
atmospheres,  and  directed  my  steps  toward  Ann  street. 

Ann  street,  with  its  neighbor,  Nassau  street,  may  be  called 
the  Paternoster  Row  of  New  York,  since  in  it  there  are 
situated  most  of  the  newspaper  and  periodical  publication 
offices.  Over  one  of  these  appeared  a  sign-board,  on  which 
were  emblazoned  in  gold  letters,  the  words  "  Mirror  Office,"  so, 


44  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

drawing  from  ray  pocket  two  letters,  one  of  them  addressee 
to  "General  George  P.  Morris,"  and  the  other  to  "  N.  P. 
Willis,  Esq.,"  I  entered  the  counting-room. 

It  was  a  small,  square  apartment,  divided  into  two  portions 
by  an  unpainted  wooden  counter,  behind  and  above  which 
were  shelves,  on  which  lay  back  numbers  and  bound  volumes 
of  the  New  York  Mirror.  On  the  wall,  over  a  stove,  were 
hung  proof  impressions  of  some  of  Mr.  Bartlett's  Views  of 
American  Scenery,  and  a  flaming  portrait  of  an  American 
Eagle,  whose  beak  had  "a  downward  drag  austere,"  and 
whose  claws  held  a  bunch  of  thunderbolts.  Hung  about 
the  place  were  sundry  and  divers  bills,  which  informed  the 
public  that  the  "New  York  Mirror"was,  far  and  away,  the 
cheapest  and  best  serial  in  the  whole  United  States;  and 
some  lithographed  circulars,  which  clearly  proved  that  no  more 
profitable  mode  of  investing  dollars  and  cents,  than  by  pur 
chasing  the  said  "  Mirror,"  could  by  any  means  be  hit  upon. 

On  entering  the  office  I  looked  round,  but  perceived  no 
one ;  yet  fancying  that  a  clerk  might  be  in  an  inner  apartment, 
I  rapped  on  the  counter  with  a  dollar  piece.  Scarcely,  however, 
had  the  "  silver  sound"  disturbed  the  quiet  of  the  place,  than 
from  behind  a  railed  desk,  at  the  end  of  the  counter,  near  the 
window  of  the  office,  emerged  a  bright-eyed,  brisk  looking 
little  gentleman,  who  very  politely  inquired  my  business. 

Let  me  describe  him.  He  was  about  five  feet  two  or  three 
.nches  high,  or,  perhaps,  a  few  inches  more,  not  much  more, 
however.  His  face  was  genial  and  pleasant.  Short,  crisp,  dark 
curly  hair,  thinly  streaked  with  silver  threads,  encircled  a  high 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  45 

well-formed  forehead,  beneath  which  was  a  pair  of  bright, 
twinkling  black  eyes.  The  nose  was  well-shapevi,  and  the 
mouth  and  chin  cast  in  delicate  moulds,  the  latter  being  slightly 
dimpled.  The  complexion  was  fresh  and  florid ;  altogether 
the  aspect  of  the  face  was  decidedly  intellectual ;  not  your 
pseudo-pensive,  thoughtful  sort  of  expression — that  mock  senti 
mentalism  of  look  which  certain  young  gentlemen,  with  turn 
down  collars,  rejoice  in,  but  a  pleasant,  vivacious,  sparkling 
Tom  Moore-ish  look,  which  at  once  convinced  you  that  its 
owner  was  open-hearted,  as  well  as  open-faced.  The  gentle 
man,  too,  had  a  semi-military  air  and  carriage,  albeit,  he  had 
by  no  means  a  martial  figure  ;  and  I  certainly  was  rather 
taken  aback,  when,  in  reply  to  my  question  whether  General 
Morris  was  within,  he  replied  with  a  smile : 

"  Yes — I  am  General  Morris." 

It  is  not  much  to  be  wondered  at  that  I  felt  some  surprise 
at  thus  unexpectedly  confronting  so  potent  a  personage  as  a 
great  military  commander !  for  it  must  be  remembered  that  I 
had  not  yet  been  a  fortnight  in  a  country  where  generals, 
majors  and  colonels,  are  rather  more  numerous  than  in  Eng 
land.  The  very  title  of  "  General"  had  conveyed  the  idea  of 
a  tall,  pompous  soldier,  with  plumed  cap,  fierce  moustachios, 
and  dangling  sabretasch,  clad  all  in  scarlet,  and  glittering 
with  gold.  How  different  the  appearance  of  the  rather  diminu 
tive  gentleman  before  me,  who,  instead  of  a  plume,  brandished 
a  pen — was  surrounded  by  hot-pressed  reams,  instead  of  hot- 
blooded  soldiers,  and  in  whose  peaceful  armory,  books  super 
seded  bullets. 


46  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

It  was  not,  however,  in  his  military  capacity  that  I  no^r 
sought  the  acquaintance  of  General  George  P.  Morris.  Years 
and  years  before,  both  myself  and  hundreds  besides  me  in  "Old 
England,"  had,  in  many  a  street,  lane,  and  alley,  heard  from 
barrel-organs,  hurdy-gurdys,  bagpipe,  and  fiddle,  aye,  and 
from  grand  pianos  too,  played  upon  by  fair  fingers,  on  still 
summer  evenings,  as  we  wandered  through  quiet  squares,  the 
windows  of  which  were  half-open  to  allow  the  melody  to 
stream  through  screens  formed  by  flowers  and  foliage — I  say, 
years  before  I  had  heard  the  General's  popular  and  famous 
song  of  "  Woodman,  spare  that  Tree,"  then,  little  dreaming 
that  I  should  ever  grasp  the  hand  of  its  author.  But  so  it 

happened,  that  no  sooner  had  Morris  read  Dr.  M *s 

letter,  than  America's  best  song  writer  bade  me  a  hearty  wel 
come,  and  I  felt  myself  at  once  at  home  with  him. 

I  do  not  imagine  that  General  Morris  has  seen  much  stern 
military  service,  for  I  believe  him  to  "be  merely  the  command 
ing  officer  of  a  militia  corps,  a  very  peaceable  and  harmless 
body  of  citizens  in  general,  their  operations  being  confined  to 
occasional  musters,  parades,  and  processionizing  ;  after  which 
services  they  lay  aside  martial  glory,  and  peaceably  repose,  on 
imaginary  laurels,  in  the  bosom  of  their  affectionate  families. 
His,  has  been  almost  exclusively  a  literary  life,  and,  like  all 
other  writers  for  the  public  press,  he  has  experienced  vicissi 
tudes.  Employed  more  as  a  journalist  than  as  a  poet,  he  has 
not  been  very  copious  of  verse,  but  such  works  as  have  pro 
ceeded  from  his  pen  are  highly  popular.  He  has  been  called 
the  Tom  Moore  of  America,  but  such  a  title  is  not  just,  for  in 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  4:7 

his  own  way,  he  is  quite  as  original  as  the  Bard  of  Erin. 
Let  us  speak  of  him  rather  as  the  Columbian  Korner — the 
well-known  author  of  the  "Sword-song," — the  hero  of  the 
sword  and  pen. 

As  a  man,  there  are  few  more  respected,  and,  indeed,  be 
loved,  among  his  literary  brethren  in  New  York,  than 
General  Morris.  His  liberality,  even  at  times  when,  perhaps, 
he  can  ill  afford  it,  to  his  brethren  in  distress,  is  said  to  be 
unbounded,  and  he  has  more  than  once  impoverished  himself 
by  serving  others ;  some  years  since,  he  had  a  lovely  resi 
dence  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  but  owing  to  losses  in 
business  he  was  compelled  to  quit  it.  In  conjunction  with 
another  literary  man,  he  has  long  been  connected  with  the 
New  York  Press,  and  "  Morris  and  Willis,"  sound  as  naturally 
as  if  the  owners  of  these  names  had  been  a  Siamese  sort  of 
twins.  At  present  they  edit  the  best  family  literary  paper  in 
America — the  "  Home  Journal," — and  in  the  office  in  Fulton 
street,  may  any  day  be  seen,  florid  and  flourishing,  the  author 
of  "  Woodman,  spare  that  Tree  !" 

Fancy  me,  reader,  still  conversing  with  General  Morris, 
when  a  stranger,  at  least  to  me,  enters  the  little  Ann  street 
office.  He  is  a  tall  dashing  looking  fellow,  dressed  rather 
in  the  extreme  of  fashion,  yet  in  good  taste,  and  with  an  air 
of  fashionable  languor  about  him.  Nodding  familiarly  to  the 
General,  who  smilingly  returns  his  salute,  he  drops  into  a 
chair,  stretches  out  his  well-shaped  legs,  and,  coquetting  with  a 
cigar,  appears  to  watch  the  circling  blue  rays  of  smoke  that 
soar  to  the  ceiling. 


48  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

The  stranger  might  be  called  handsome — certainly  he  has 
been  so,  but  time  and  the  pen  have  left  their  traces  on  his 
face ;  evidently  he  cultivates  the  Graces,  although  the  enemy 
has  thinned  his  curling  locks,  which  are  jauntily  disposed  over  a 
fine  forehead.  His  eyes  are  blue,  and  have  much  vivacity  in 
their  expression,  but  at  their  outer  angles  are  those  unmis 
takable  evidences  of  coming  age — crows'-feet.  The  cheeks  are 
not  so  plump  and  fresh-looking  as  thev  must  have  appeared 
ten  years  ago,  and  they  have  a  yellowish  tinge,  which  travel 
or  good  living  might  have  caused.  The  nose  is  short  and 
slightly  retrousse,  the  mouth  delicately  curved  and  the  chin 
systematically  chiselled.  The  shape  of  the  face  is  round, 
and  when  the  "  dew  of  youth "  rested  on  it,  it  must  have  been 
intellectually  handsome,  despite  the  dash  of  effeminacy  that 

characterises  it.     Then,  as  to  the  figure  of  Mr. (I  will  tell 

you  his  name  presently),  it  is,  to  use  a  trite  phrase,  what  is 
called  " good,"  that  is — it  is  tall  and  well-proportioned;  and 
if  General  Morris  might  be  described  by  Goldsmith's  line, 

"  An  abridgment  of  all  that  is  pleasant  in  man," 

the  gentleman  now  specially  alluded  to  may  be  spoken  of  as 
a  D'Orsay-ish  looking  fellow,  not  at  all  curtailed  either  in 
height  or  breadth  of  Nature's  fair  proportions. 

I  had  some  dim  recollections  of  having  seen  that  face  some 
where  before  ;  but  where,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  could  not  ima 
gine.  It  might  have  been  in  a  theatre,  in  the  street,  in  a 
church,, or  in  a  drawing-room.  No,  it  had  not  been  in  any 
such  place.  A  thought  struck  me — I  had  seen  some  one  like 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  49 

him  on  the  frontispiece  of  a  book.  I  had  not  long  to  remain 
in  doubt,  for  Morris,  after  having  dispatched  a  boy  with  a 
bundle  of  "  Mirrors,"  said — 

**  Mr. ,  let  me  have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  you  to 

Mr.  Willis — my  partner." 

So  then,  the  trifling  mystery  was  cleared  up. 

Who  has  not  heard  of  N.  P.  Willis,  the  renowned  "  penciller 
by  the  way,"  upon  whose  shoulders  Lockhart  laid  the  critical 
lash  so  severely  ?  Every  one  who  knows  anything  of  literary 
people  has  heard  of  him.  I  had,  of  course  known  him  well 
by  reputation,  and  therefore,  on  my  introduction,  regarded  him 
with  considerable  interest.  On  my  name  being  mentioned,  he 
asked  me  whether  I  was  the  author  of  some  lines  on  the  death 
of  Campbell  which  had  a  few  days  before  appeared  in  the 
"  Mirror."  After  kindly  complimenting  me  on  them,  we  di 
verged  into  various  topics  of  conversation,  and,  on  my  remark 
ing  that  I  wished  to  find  Major  Noah,  to  whom  I  had  a  letter, 
he  very  politely  escorted  me  to  the  office  of  that  gentleman. 

We  soon  reached  Noah's  office,  or  "Ark ;"  it  was  in  Nassau 
street.  Here  Mr.  Willis  left  me,  and  then  I  mounted  a  long 
flight  of  steps,  in  search  of  the  veteran  journalist.  Soon  did 
I  find  myself  in  the  presence  of  the  gentleman  who  in  his  own 
portly  person  represented  the  Army,  the  Bench,  and  the  Press. 

He  was  tall,  corpulent,  very  red  in  the  face,  and  very  frank 
and  good-humored.  No  one  could  for  a  moment  mistake  his 
Mosaic  origin,  Wit  he  looked  very  little  like  that  hard-working 
personage — the  editor  of  a  newspaper.  Yet  he  had  been  one 
for  many  years,  and  was  the  first  to  engage  a  regular  English 

3 


50  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

correspondent,  in  the  person  of  Dr.  Robert  Shelton  Mackenzie, 
who  I  believe,  is  now  connected  with  the  New  York  Press. 

Judge  Noah  was  one  of  the  most  sanguine]y  speculative  of 
mankind,  and  he  devised  the  strangest  schemes  possible.  His 
last "  spec  "  was  the  proposed  getting  up  a  company  to  pur 
chase  Grand  Island,  just  above  Niagara  Falls,  on  which  to 
found  a  Jewish  colony,  which  should  there  await  the  gathering 
in  of  the  scattered  Israelites.  But  the 

"  Tribes  of  the  wandering  foot  and  weary  breast " 

did  not  enter  heartily  into  the  scheme ;  and  Judge  Noah  con 
tinued  to  mount,  panting  and  perspiring,  the  long  flight  of 
office  stairs,  until  near  the  time  of  his  death,  which  occurred 
about  five  or  six  years  ago. 

The  first  time  I  ever  saw  Longfellow  was  some  eight  or  nine 
years  since,  at  a  Cambridge  Commencement.  I  attended  that 
gathering  in  the  company  of  my  excellent  friend  S.  G.  Good 
rich,  or,  as  he  is  known  all  over  the  world,  "  Peter  Parley." 
Mr.  Griswold  Goodrich  is,  in  point  of  personal  appearance,  as 
fascinating  a  man  as  you  may  fall  in  with  in  a  summer's  day. 
Tall,  and  of  a  good  figure,  which  is  unbent  by  years,  he  is  a 
man  of  mark ;  but  look  at  his  intellectual  face — you  cannot 
see  what  color  the  eyes  are,  for  they  are  constantly  shaded  by 
a  pair  of  smoked-glass  spectacles — notice  his  Roman  nose — 
his  well-shaped  mouth  and  chin,  and  observe  the  entire 
expression  of  the  face,  and  you  will  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  Peter  Parley — the  beloved  of  boys,  and  the  glory  of  girls 


OFF-HAXD    TAKINGS.  51 

— IB  a  remarkably  attractive  personage.  Mr.  Goodrich's 
manners, are  quite  in  keeping  with  his  external  appearance, 
lie  is  dignified,  courteous,  kind,  and  generous-hearted.  Per 
haps  the  boys  and  girls  of  America,  nay,  of  the  world,  have 
no  truer  friend  than  he  is — certainly  they  never  have  had, 
and  probably  never  will  have,  a  more  laborious  worker  for 
their  best  interests. 

As  we  stood  looking  at  the  throng  of  professors  and  stu 
dents,  I  observed  a  gentleman  of  a  slight  figure  and  rather 
medium  stature,  rapidly  flitting  from  one  point  to  another, 
He  was  dressed  in  a  very  fashionably  made  blue  frock  coat, 
with  a  velvet  collar,  a  fancy  velvet  vest,  and  unexceptionable 
pantaloons.  His  face  was  intellectual,  but  not  particularly  so,  if 
we  except  the  eyes,  which  were  of  a  beautiful  blue,  and  very 
serene  in  their  expression — the  nose  was  long,  perhaps  too 
long,  and  the  hair  of  a  light  brown.  This  was  the  author  of 
"  Evangeline." 

Since  then  Mr.  Longfellow  has  grown  stout,  and  so  far  has 
lost  the  poetical  grace  of  figure  which  we  are  apt  to  couple 
with  high  mental  qualifications.  Of  course  I  could  not  but 
survey  him  with  considerable  interest,  for,  in  England,  he  is 
quite  as  popular  as  in  his  own  country ;  I  doubt  indeed,  if  any 
British  poet,  Tennyson,  perhaps,  excepted,  enjoys  so  extensive 
a  fame  as  the  Cambridge  professor. 

Since  writing  the  foregoing  sketch  of  General  Morris,  this 
best  song-writer  of  America  has  collected  his  works  in  a 
superbly  illustrated  volume. 


CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 


WILLIAM  H.  SEWAED. 

SENATOR  SEWARD  is  the  Daniel  O'Connell  of  America;  not 
in  stature,  for  the  former  is  petit — the  latter  was  prodigious; 
not  in  wit,  for  the  Yankee  seldom  perpetrates  even  a  pun, 
while  the  Irishman  was  a  "  book  in  breeches,"  and  every  page 
gleaming  with  wit;  not  in  eloquence,  for  Seward  requires 
preparation  and  speaks  without  much  unction;  O'Connell 
spoke  spontaneously,  and  every  word  was  a  throb;  not  in 
faith,  for  the  defender  of  the  "  higher  law  "  is  almost  a  Protes 
tant,  while  the  Great  Agitator,  as  all  know,  was  altogether  a 
Catholic.  Yet  there  is  a  resemblance,  notwithstanding  their 
dissimilarities.  Seward  stands  at  the  tip  top  of  his  profession 
as  a  lawyer,  and  so  did  O'Connell.  Seward  made  a  sensation 
in  the  American  Senate ;  O'Connell  did  the  same  in  the  House 
of  Commons.  Seward  identifies  himself  with  the  party  of 
Freedom.  O'Connell  hated  slavery,  and  "oppression  made 
that  wise  man  mad."  Seward  is  charged  with  demagogueism. 
O'Connell  made  himself  all  things  to  all  men,  that  he  might 
gain  some.  Seward  has  won  the  sympathies  of  the  masses, 
and  is  the  pet  of  the  liberty-loving  people  of  the  North. 
O'Connell  was  the  idol  of  Ireland,  and  his  memory  will  ever 
live  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen.  Seward  is  dreaded  as 
much  by  the  Old  Hunkers  of  this  country,  as  O'Connell  wai 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  53 

feared  by  tyrant  tories  of  Great  Britain.  Seward  split  th« 
Whig  party ;  so  did  O'Connell.  Seward  is  a  practical  tem 
perance  man  ;  O'Connell  was  a  pledged  tee-totaller.  Seward 
would  like  to  be  President  of  the  United  States ;  O'Connell 
desired  to  be  King  of  Ireland.  Seward  is  a  great  man  among 
great  men.  He  is  not  so  volcanic  as  Benton — not  so  logical 
as  Webster — not  so  eloquent  as  Clay — not  so  brittle  as  Foote 
— not  so  jovial  as  Hale ;  but  he  can  write  a  better  letter  than 
any  of  them.  A  little  from  his  pen  will  go  a  great  distance 
and  keep  a  long  time.  His  classic  style,  his  earnest  air,  his 
truthful  manner,  his  uncommon  sense,  his  perfect  self-control, 
his  thorough  knowledge  of  the  leading  questions  of  the  day, 
compel  the  attention  and  admiration  of  the  hearer.  He  is 
never  timid,  never  tame,  never  squeamish,  never  vulgar,  never 
insulting.  He  is  independent  without  egotism,  modest  with 
out  subserviency,  dignified  without  pomposity,  and  sociable 
without  affectation. 

We  need  look  back  but  a  few  months  to  find  much  to 
admire  in  the  character  of  Seward.  See  him  rise  in  the 
Senate  Chamber,  and  hear  him  defend  the  rights  of  humanity 
in  an  atmosphere  of  opposing  influences.  There  sits  the 
imperious  Clay,  with  flushed  face,  and  flashing  eyes — and  the 
Great  Expounder,  with  pouting  lip  and  brow  of  thunder ;  and 
fiery  Foote,  phosphorescent  with  excitement ;  and  philosophi 
cal  Cass,  as  placid  as  though  the  Union  was  not  in  danger. 
He  (Seward)  drops  a  word  in  defence  of  the  higher  law,  and 
forthwith  there  is  "  ground  and  lofty  tumbling."  The  enraged 
Senators  appear  to  think  that  regard  for  the  Commandments 


54  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

is  an  insult  to  the  Constitution — that  reverence  for  the  Deity 
is  "  renegadism  "  from  duty.  So  they  examine  the  elements 
of  nature,  analyze  the  facts  in  history,  and  pervert  the  truths 
of  the  Bible,  to  prove  that  we  ought  to  obey  men  rather  than 
to  obey  God.  Had  Seward  been  an  ordinary  man,  he  would 
have  been  swamped  amid  the  storm ;  but  he  remained  firm 
as  a  rock  in  the  midst  of  that  stormy  sea,  and  gave  proof,  that, 
although  minimum  in  person,  he  was  maximum  in  power. 
Their  impotent  threats  could  no  more  shake  his  resolution, 
than  a  pinch  of  snuff  could  make  him  sneeze  (excuse  the 
homely  illustration)  for  the  former  went  in  at  his  ears  almost  as 
frequently  as  the  latter  does  into  his  nostrils. 

Governor  Seward,  as  he  is  called,  is  a  little  past  the  prime 
of  life,  somewhat  under  the  common  stature,  has  a  very  large 
head,  with  a  few  gray  hairs  playing  hide  and  seek  amid  the 
mass  of  light  brown ;  he  has  blue  eyes,  a  small  forehead,  a 
long  nose,  and  a  patrician  mouth.  He  is  well  to  do  in  the 
world,  happy  in  his  domestic  relations,  enjoys  a  good  reputation, 
and  his  star  is  still  in  the  ascendant. 

The  Speeches  and  Letters  of  W.  H.  Seward  have  been  pub 
lished  recently,  and  the  reader  is  referred  to  them  for  specimens 
of  his  eloquence.  Here  is  a  mere  mouthful. 

"  Yes  sir,  it  is  a  complete,  not  an  imperfect  power.  It  is  a 
power  over  the  District,  equal  to  any  authority  which  can  be 
exercised  by  any  Legislature  of  any  *  State  in  the  Union,'  or 
by  any  Legislature  of  any  State  or  nation  '  in  the  world.1 
It  is  a  power  described  in  the  philosophy  of  Government  as 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  5£ 

'summum  imperium,  summo  modo' — a  power,  within  tha 
region  -of  its  exercise,  complete,  absolute,  universal.  Now, 
everv  Legislature  in  this  Union,  every  sovereign  authority  in 
the  world,  has  the  power  to  abolish  slavery.  More  than  half 
the  States  in  this  Union  have  abolished  or  prohibited  it. 
France,  England,  and  Mexico,  have  abolished  and  prohibited 
it.  Congress  can  do,  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  what  they 
have  done  within  their  respective  dominions. 

"  I  dwell  upon  this  point  only  a  moment  longer.  Slavery 
within  the  District  of  Columbia  exists  only  by  the  action  of 
Congress.  Instead  of  pursuing  the  argument  further,  to  prove 
that  Congress  has  the  power  to  make  a  free  man,  I  demand 
proof  that  Congress  possesses  the  power  to  make  a  slave,  or 
hold  a  man  in  bondage. 

"  All  the  other  points  which  have  been  raised,  apply,  not  to 
the  merits  of  the  proposition  for  emancipation,  but  only  to  the 
form  and  manner  of  carrying  it  into  effect.  Such  were  the 
objections  raised  by  my  honorable  and  esteemed  friend  from 
Connecticut  [MR.  BALDWIN],  and  my  no  less  honorable  and 
esteemed  friend  from  Massachusetts  [MR.  WINTHROP].  It 
will  be  seen  at  once,  that  these  objectors  concede  that  the 
principle  of  the  measure  is  right.  Nevertheless,  without 
holding  those  gentlemen  to  this  concession,  but  leaving  them 
to  judge  and  act  for  themselves,  I  shall  be  content  to  reply  to 
them,  so  far  as  only  to  vindicate  the  plan  of  emancipation 
embodied  in  the  amendment.  What,  then,  is  the  form,  and 
what  the  manner  proposed  ?  The  amendment  declares  that 
slavery  shall  for  ever  cease  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  and 


56  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

that  all  persons  held  in  bondage  therein  when  the  act  shall  go 
into  effect  shall  be  free.  It  directs  the  Secretary  of  the  Inte 
rior  to  pay  the  damages  wliich  any  person  holding  slaves 
within  the  District  shall  incur  by  reason  of  its  passage,  and  it 
appropriates  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  as  a  fund  for  that 
purpose.  The  amendment  further  provides  for  an  election,  in 
which  the  qualified  and  competent  citizens  of  the  District  shall 
express  their  approbation  or  disapprobation  of  the  act.  If  they 
disapprove,  it  shall  be  void  and  of  no  effect. 

"I  submit,  sir,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  plan  is  adequate. 
It  will  secure  the  abolition  of  slavery  within  the  District,  if  it 
obtain  the  consent  of  those  who  are  most  particularly  con 
cerned  in  the  question.  I  have  not  learned  from  either  of  my 
honorable  friends  that  he  is  in  favor  of  emancipating  the 
slaves  without  the  consent  of  the  people  in  the  District,  and 
we  have  all  heard  other  honorable  Senators  insist  upon  that 
consent  as  indispensable.  I  do  not  insist  upon  it  for  myself. 
I  have  only  surrendered  so  much  to  their  objections  ;  but  if  a 
majority  of  the  Senate  should  waive  the  objection,  it  would 
give  rne  pleasure  to  modify  the  plan  accordingly. 

"  Secondly,  the  plan  is  an  equal  one.  While  it  restores  to 
the  slave  the  inestimable  right  of  freedom,  it  awards  to  him 
who,  by  authority  of  Congress,  has  hitherto  held  the  slave  in 
bondage,  a  just  remuneration  and  indemnity  for  his  loss.  It 
is  then,  adequate  and  equal. 

"  Speaking  for  myself  alone,  and  imputing  no  prejudice  and 
no  injustice  to  others,  I  maybe  allowed  to  remark  that  the  abo 
lition  of  slavery  anywhere  seems  to  me  a  just  and  wise  policy 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  57 

provided  it  can  be  effected  without  producing  injury  outweigh 
ing  its  Jbenefits.  Opposition  to  emancipation  in  the  Dis 
trict  of  Columbia,  therefore,  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  bad  cause 
and  it  is  the  nature  of  a  bad  cause  to  betray  itself.  I  did 
not  mistake,  then,  in  supposing  that  the  opposition  which  my 
proposition  would  encounter  would  prove  its  best  vindication. 

"  Influenced  by  these  considerations,  I  shall  not  now  address 
myself  to  the  broad  merits  of  the  question,  but  shall  be  con 
tent  with  simply  adverting  to  the  points  which  have  been 
made  during  the  present  debate.  Tlie  first  point  was  made 
by  the  honorable  Senator  from  Georgia  [Mr.  DAWSON],  with 
the  concurrence  of  some  other  Senators,  and  consisted  in  the 
improper  or  bad  motives  which  they  saw  fit  to  impute  to  the 
author  of  the  measure.  Sir,  the  great  instructor  in  the  art  of 
reasoning  (Lord  Bacon)  teaches  that  it  is  better  always  to  an 
swer  to  the  '  matter '  of  an  adversary  than  to  his  '  person.'  The 
imputation  of  motives  does  not  come  within  that  rule,  and 
therefore  it  falls  at  my  feet.  The  measure  I  have  submitted  is 
either  right  or  wrong.  If  right,  no  unworthiness  of  motive 
of  mine  can  detract  from  its  merits ;  if  wrong,  no  purity  of 
motive  can  redeem  it. 

"  The  second  point  is  that  which  has  been  so  fully  answered 
by  the  honorable  and  distinguished  Senator  from  Kentucky 
[Mr.  CLAY],  viz.  that  Congress  has  no  power  to  abolish 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  I  find  that  power  in  the 
Constitution,  and  it  is  defined  by  these  words :  '  To  exercise 
exclusive  legislation  in  all  cases  whatsoever  over  such  district 
not  exceeding  ten  miles  square,  as  may,  by  cession  of  partic* 

3* 


5&  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

ular  States,  and  the  acceptance  of  Congress,  become  the  seat 
of  Government  of  the  United  States.1 

"  The  District  of  Columbia  is  that  district  not  exceeding  ten 
miles  square.  It  has  become  the  seat  of  the  Government  of 
the  United  States  by  cession  of  the  State  of  Maryland,  accept 
ed  by  Congress.  It  is  of  the  very  nature  of  the  power  that  it 
is  'exclusive/  and  applies  'to  all  cases  whatsoever,'  whenever  the 
district  becomes,  in  the  manner  defined,  the  seat  of  the  Gov 
ernment  of  the  United  States.  This,  I  think,  is  a  conclusive 
answer  to  the  argument  of  the  honorable  Senator  from  Ken 
tucky,  that  it  is  limited  by  an  implied  understanding  that  it 
should  not  be  exercised  to  abolish  slavery.  Neither  could  the 
State  of  Maryland  make  nor  could  the  United  States  yield 
such  a  reservation. 

"  An  exclusive  power  is  that  power  which  is  possessed  and 
may  be  exercised  independently  of  all  other  sovereignties  on 
earth.  Congress,  then,  having  'exclusive  power,7  has  abso 
lute  sovereignty,  unless  cases  be  excepted  in  which  it  shall  not 
be  exercised.  But  such  exceptions  are  excluded  by  the  broad 
expression,  '  in  all  cases  whatsoever.' " 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  59 


EDWARD  EVERETT. 

THE  first  time  the  writer  had  the  pleasure  to  see  and  heal 
the  distinguished  gentleman,  whose  name  is  at  the  head  of 
this  sketch,  was  soon  after  the  death  of  John  Quincy  Adams. 
Faneuil  Hall,  the  famous  cradle  of  liberty,  was  filled  with  the 
wealth  and  beauty  of  Boston — for  it  had  been  announced 
through  the  medium  of  the  newspaper  press,  that  Edward 
Everett  was  expected  to  deliver  the  euology  on  the  death  of 
the  much  lamented  ex-president.  At  the  appointed  time,  the 
orator  commenced  his  discourse,  and  delivered  it  with  that 
courtly  grace  and  noble  dignity,  for  which  he  is  so  celebrated. 
So  thoroughly  had  he  committed  every  sentence  and  every 
syllable  to  memory,  he  did  not  once  refer  to  his  notes,  which 
lay  unrolled  before  him.  Like  every  production  from  his 
polished  pen,  it  was  smooth,  elegant,  beautiful,  and  classical. 
There  was  nothing  new  in  it,  nothing  brilliant,  no  lofty 
poetry,  no  profound  philosophy,  and  yet  there  was  a  silvery 
vein  of  subtle  reflection  running  through  it,  but  the  channel 
through  which  it  flowed,  had  evidently  been  dug  with  a 
golden  spade,  for  it  lacked  the  original  convolutions  of 
nature ;  there  was  too  much  uniformity  in  sloping  the  banks, 
and  scooping  the  vales,  and  rounding  the  hills. 

Mr.  Everett's  writings  and  speeches  are  models  of  correct 
composition ;  the  grammatical  construction  is  faultless,  the 


60  CRAYON   SKETCHES,  AND 

punctuation  perfect,  the  arrangement  accurate.  His  ideas 
like  their  author,  are  neatly  dressed,  and  never  appear  before 
the  public  in  dishabille.  His  badinage  is  so  polite,  no  one 
can  be  offended;  his  sarcasm  so  refined,  it  never  leaves  a 
scratch  upon  the  thinest  cuticle ;  his  wit  so  genteel,  it  would 
be  vulgar  not  to  smile  at  its  exquisite  finish.  With  more 
courage  and  less  fastidiousness,  he  would  be  the  Addison  of 
America ;  indeed  he  is  the  only  man  entitled  to  that  appella 
tion. 

You  may  look  and  listen  in  vain  for  wild  sallies  of  mother- 
wit,  or  fierce  invective,  or  exuberant  passion.  All  the  crooked 
lines  must  be  straightened,  all  the  rough  ledges  must  be 
smoothed  down  in  his  pages,  or  woe  betide  the  unlucky 
printer.  His  drawing-room  declamation,  his  elegant  theoriz 
ing,  his  gentlemanly  deportment,  have  made  him  immensely 
popular  with  the  aristocracy  of  America,  for  he  is  emphati 
cally  a  Yankee  patrician,  with  vast  scholarship,  a  handsome 
fa*ie  and  figure,  and  an  immense  fortune,  indispensable 
requisites  in  those  who  would  secure  and  retain  the  good 
opinion  of  our  Massachusetts  marquises,  Vermont  viscounts, 
Delaware  dukes,  and  Louisiana  lords.  Mr.  Everett  lacks 
vigor,  because  he  is  afraid  of  being  vulgar ;  he  lacks  origi 
nality,  because  he  dare  not  be  unfashionable.  He  is  destined 
to  live  in  peace  and  die  in  peace,  but  his  works  will  not 
follow  him  to  the  same  repose.  They  will  live  for  aye. 

When  his  friends  prepared  him  for  the  pulpit,  they  should 
have  urged  him  to  embrace  the  Universalist  faith,  for  he  is 
too  pleasant  and  polite  to  send  any  unfortunate  victim  to  that 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  61 

place  not  found  on  modern  maps  of  geography,  but  which  13 
considered  by  some  to  be  much  warmer  than  the  West 
Indies. 

After  examining  the  most  objectionable  features  in  the 
literary  efforts  of  this  learned  divine  and  experienced  states 
man,  it  will  be  unjust  not  to  look  at  his  excellencies.  He  is 
certainly  an  agreeable  and  amiable  gentleman,  whose  moral 
character  is  without  a  stain.  Kind  and  generous  to  the  poor, 
ready  to  assist  the  unfortunate,  and  sympathize  with  the 
afflicted.  When  at  the  Court  of  St.  James,  he  did  not  belit 
tle  the  nation  he  represented  by  apeing  the  aristocracy  of 
England.  The  charge  of  snob-ism  cannot  be  sustained 
against  him,  for  he  did  not  disfigure  his  noble  person,  by 
wearing  the  bespangled  and  vulgar  uniform  of  court;  but 
like  an  honest,  and,  we  trust,  true-hearted  American,  he  was 
satisfied  with  the  plain  dress  of  a  republican  citizen.  How 
unbecoming  in  the  political  minister  of  a  young  republic,  to 
attire  himself  in  the  gew-gaws  of  royalty,  with  a  sword 
dangling  at  his  side.  Let  Austria,  and  Russia,  and  France, 
indulge  in  such  theatrical  tomfoolery  if  they  can  afford  it, 
but  let  America,  at  home  and  abroad,  in  speech  and  deed, 
dress  and  address,  ever  maintain  the  doctrine  of  fraternity, 
liberty,  equality,  and  republican  simplicity.  Let  the  old 
driveling  nations,  now  in  their  dotage,  see  that  America  has 
no  inclination  to  copy  their  mistakes  for  the  sake  of  their 
transitory  magnificence.  In  this  country,  every  subject  is  a 
sovereign,  and  we  acknowledge  no  hereditary  titles,  no  aris 
tocracy,  save  that  of  genius  and  goodness. 


62  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

Mr.  Everett  is  an  orator,  and,  were  it  not  for  the  dignified 
stiffness,  to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  he  would  be  an  elo 
quent  orator.  There  is  no  speaker  in  this  country  whose 
gesticulation  is  so  unexceptionable,  not  one  who  combines 
such  solid  learning  with  such  a  graceful  delivery,  when  he 
forgets  "propriety"  in  the  momentary  glow  of  passion. 
How  the  masses  rush  to  the  pulpit  or  the  platform  to  hear 
him  speak !  With  what  readiness  do  the  people  of  all  parties 
appreciate  the  best  utterances  contained  in  his  addresses ! 

It  was  while  delivering  a  lecture  at  Worcester,  he  called 
attention  to  the  learned  Blacksmith,  and  Elihu  Burritt  has 
been  famous  ever  since  that  time. 

I  have  said  elsewhere,  that  his  speeches  are  barren  of 
poetry — by  that  I  mean,  he  never  soars  to  the  heaven  of 
poetic  eloquence.  He  has  delicate  fancy,  but  is  deficient  ill 
imagination. 

Here  is  a  specimen  of  his  verse  making : — 

"When  I  am  dead,  no  pageant  train 

Shall  waste  their  sorrows  at  my  bier, 

Nor  worthless  pomp  of  homage  vain 
Stain  it  with  hypocritic  tear, 

For  I  will  die  as  I  did  live, 

Nor  take  the  boon  I  cannot  give. 

"  Ye  shall  not  raise  a  marble  bust 
Upon  the  spot  where  I  repose, 
Ye  shall  not  fawn  before  my  dust — 
In  hollow  circumstance  of  woes, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  63 

Nor  sculptured  clay  with  lying  breath, 
Insult  the  clay  that  moulds  beneath. 

"Ye  shall  not  pile  with  servile  toil 

Your  monuments  upon  rny  breast, 
Nor  yet  within  the  common  soil, 

Lay  down  the  wreck  of  power  to  rest, 
Where  man  can  boast  that  he  has  trod, 
On  him  that  was  the  '  scourge  of  God  ' 

"But  ye,  the  mountain  stream  shall  turn, 

And  lay  its  secret  channel  bare, 
And  hollow  for  your  sovereign's  urn — 
A  resting-place  for  ever  there." 

The  above  is  part  of  a  poem,  entitled  "  Alaric  the  Visi 
goth,"  who  stormed  and  spoiled  the  city  of  Rome,  and  waa 
afterwards  buried  in  the  channel  of  the  river  Busentius. 

Mr.  Everett  seldom  startles  the  reader  with  a  paradox, 
rarely  assails  any  popular  idol,  never  sneers  at  a  rival.  It  is 
evident  that  he  writes  with  the  expectation  of  being  read  by 
future  generations,  or  he  would  not  finish  his  sentences,  and 
round  his  periods  in  such  strict  accordance  with  the  rules  of 
rhetoric,  and  with  such  a  lavish  display  of  erudition,  and  such 
fastidious  nicety  in  selecting  his  quotations.  He  takes  the 
place  of  Webster,  but  he  cannot  fill  it.  He  has  not  that 
elephantine  force,  that  ponderous  logic,  that  masculine  energy, 
and  that  off-hand  readiness,  which  so  pre-eminently  character 
ized  the  mighty  Daniel.  He  is,  however,  a  man  of  more 
refined  accompli shments,  has  more  scholarship,  has  a  better 


64  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

acquaintance  with  general  literature  than  his  great  predeces 
sor.  In  comparing  him  with  those  who  were  and  those  who 
are  his  associates,  I  should  say,  he  is  more  polished  than 
Webster,  more  classical  than  Cass,  more  graceful  than  Beii- 
ton,  more  learned  than  Calhoun,  more  elegant  than  Clay. 

Not  long  since,  I  saw  him  in  the  senate  chamber,  at 
Washington;  he  was  revising  the  smooth  speech  which  he 
delivered  a  short  time  before  the  senate  adjourned.  It  was  as 
full  of  flattering  compliments  as  a  Christmas  pudding  is  of 
plums. 

Mr.  Everett  is  about  sixty  years  of  age ;  erect  as  a  liberty- 
pole,  of  perfect  mould,  pale  features,  blue  eyes,  towering  brow, 
hair  turning  grey,  mouth  and  chin  finely  cut ;  in  a  word, 
his  face  indicates  the  scholar  and  the  gentleman  he  is.  He 
dresses  richly,  fashionably,  not  foppishly,  and  looks  like  a 
lord. 

The  extracts  with  which  we  conclude  our  sketch  of  Mr. 
Everett,  are  from  a  speech,  delivered  at  Plymouth,  on  the 
3d  of  August,  1853. 


"  You,  Mr.  President,  have  been  good  enough  to  intimate 
that  among  our  numerous  honored  guests,  to  whom  your  com  - 
plimentary  remarks  might  have  applied  with  equal  justice  aa 
to  myself,  with  possibly  a  single  exception,  that  I  am  the  indi 
vidual  to  whom  you  look  to  respond  to  the  toast  which  has 
just  been  announced.  I  rise  to  obey  your  call.  It  is  true, 
that  there  is  a  single  circumstance  by  which  it  is  possible  that 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  65 

the  allusion  may  have  been  more  exclusively  applied  to  me 
than  any  other  gentleman  present,  for  it  is  most  true  that  on 
one  pleasant  occasion  on  which  I  have  been  at  this  delightful 
and  beloved  Plymouth,  I  have  suggested  that  it  might  be 
expedient,  not  always,  but  occasionally,  to  transfer  the  cele 
bration  of  the  great  day  from  the  winter  to  the  summer 
season.  Supposing  that  to  be  the  allusion  which  you  had  in 
your  mind,  I  feel  that  I  may,  without  impropriety,  obey  your 
call  in  rising  to  respond  to  the  toast  that  has  just  been  given. 
"  It  is  now  hard  upon  thirty  years  since  I  had  the  honor,  on 
the  22d  December,  to  address  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
Pilgrims,  assembled  in  this  place.  I  deemed  it  a  peculiar 
privilege  and  an  honor.  I  deem  it,  sir,  a  still  greater  honor 
to  find  myself  here  on  this  joyous  occasion,  and  to  be  permit 
ted  to  participate  in  this  happy  festival,  where  we  have  an 
attendance  of  so  many  distinguished  friends  and  fellow  citi 
zens  from  distant  parts  of  the  Union — from  almost  every  state 
in  the  Union,  sir,  you  have  already  told  us — where  we  are 
favored  with  the  company  of  the  representatives  of  the  New 
England  Society  of  New  York,  one  of  those  institutions 
which  are  carrying  the  name  and  the  principles  of  the  Pil 
grims  to  the  farthest  ends  of  the  Union;  where  we  are 
gratified  with  the  company  of  our  military  friends  from  the 
same  city,  the  great  commercial  emporium  of  the  United 
States;  where  we  are  honored  with  the  presence  of  sc 
much  of  the  gravity,  the  dignity,  and  the  character  of  tha 
community ;  and  where  we  are  favored  with  the  presence  of 
BO  much  of  beauty,  of  grace,  and  of  loveliness.  (Applause.) 


66  CRAYON   SKETCHES,  AND 

"  A  few  days  ago,  as  I  saw  in  the  newspapers,  two  light 
birch-bark  canoes  appeared  in  Boston  harbor,  containing  each 
a  solitary  Indian.  They  seemed,  as  they  approached,  to  gaza 
in  silent  wonder  at  the  city  of  the  triple  hills,  rising  street 
above  street,  and  crowned  with  the  dome  of  the  State  House, 
and  at  the  long  line  of  villas  stretching  far  into  the  back 
ground ;  at  the  numerous  tall  vessels  outward  bound,  as  they 
dropped  down  the  channel  and  spread  their  broad  wings  to 
the  breeze,  and  those  which  were  returning  weather-beaten 
from  the  ends  of  the  earth ;  at  the  steamers  dashing  in  every 
direction  across  the  harbor,  breathing  volumes  of  smoke  from 
their  fiery  lungs.  They  paddled  their  frail  barks  with  dex 
terity  and  speed  through  this  strange,  busy,  and  to  them,  no 
doubt,  bewildering  scene ;  and  having  made  the  circuit  of 
East  Boston,  the  Navy  Yard,  the  city  itself,  and  South  Bos 
ton,  dropped  down  with  the  current,  and  disappeared  among 
the  islands. 

"  There  was  not  a  human  being  of  kindred  blood  to  utter  a 
word  of  welcome  to  them,  in  all  the  region,  which  on  the  day 
we  now  commemorate  was  occupied  by  their  forefathers  in 
Massachusetts.  The  race  is  gone.  It  would  be  a  mistaken 
sentimentality  to  regret  the  change;  to  regret  that  somo 
thousand  uncultured  barbarians — destitute  of  all  the  improve 
ments  of  social  life,  and  seemingly  incapable  of  adopting 
them,  should  have  yielded  gradually  to  the  civilized  millions 
who  have  taken  their  place.  But  we  must,  both  as  men  and 
as  Christians,  condemn  whatever  of  oppression  and  wrong  has 
marked  the  change  (as  is  too  apt  always  to  be  the  case,  when 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  67 

strong  and  weak  are  brought  into  contact  with  each  other), 
and  without  affectation  we  may  indulge  a  heartfelt  sympathy 
for  the  feeble  and  stricken  relics  of  once  powerful  and  formid 
able  tribes  of  fellow  men. 

***** 

"The  discovery  itself  of  the  American  continent  may,  I 
think,  be  fairly  considered  the  most  extraordinary  event  in  the 
history  of  the  world  In  this,  as  in  other  cases,  familiarity 
blunts  the  edge  of  our  perceptions;  but,  much  as  I  have 
meditated,  and  often  as  I  have  treated  this  theme,  its  magni 
tude  grows  upon  me  with  each  successive  contemplation. 
That  a  continent  nearly  as  large  as  Europe  and  Africa  united 
— spread  out  on  both  sides  of  the  equator, — lying  between 
the  western  shores  of  Europe  and  Africa  and  the  eastern 
shore  of  Asia — with  groups  of  islands  in  either  ocean,  as  it 
were,  stopping-places  on  the  march  of  discovery ; — a  conti 
nent  not  inhabited  indeed  by  civilized  races,  but  still  occupied 
by  one  of  the  families  of  rational  man, — that  this  great  hemi 
sphere,  I  say,  should  have  laid  undiscovered  for  five  thousand 
years  upon  the  bosom  of  the  deep, — a  mystery  so  vast,  within 
so  short  a  distance,  and  yet  not  found  out,  is  indeed  a  marvel. 
Mute  nature,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  had  made  the  dis 
covery  to  the  philosopher,  for  the  preponderance  of  land  in 
the  eastern  hemisphere  demanded  a  counterpoise  in  the 
west. 

"  Dark-wooded  trees  had  drifted  over  the  sea  and  told  of 
the  tropical  forests  where  they  grew.  Stupendous  ocean  cur 
rents,  driven  westward  by  the  ever-breathing  trade-winds,  had 


68  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

wheeled  their  mighty  flexures  along  the  American  coast,  and 
returned  to  Europe  with  tidings  of  the  everlasting  break 
waters  which  had  stopped  their  way.  But  the  fullness  of 
time  had  not  yet  come.  Egypt  and  Assyria,  and  Tyre  and 
Carthage,  and  Greece  and  Rome,  must  flourish  and  fall, 
before  the  seals  are  broken.  The  ancient  civilization  must  be 
weighed  in  a  balance  and  found  wanting.  Yes,  and  more. 
Nature  must  unlock  her  rarest  mysteries ;  the  quivering  steel 
must  learn  to  tremble  to  the  pole  ;  the  astrolabe  must  climb 
the  arch  of  heaven ;  science  must  demonstrate  the  spheroidity 
of  the  earth,  which  the  ancients  suspected  but  could  not 
prove ;  the  press  must  scatter  the  flying  rear  of  mediaeval 
darkness ;  the  creative  instincts  of  a  new  political,  intellec 
tual,  and  social  life  must  begin  to  kindle  into  action ;  and 
then  the  great  Discoverer  may  go  forth. 

"  He  does  go  forth.  The  discovery  is  made  ;  the  balance  of 
the  globe  is  redressed.  A  continent  nearly  equal  in  extent  to 
one-half  the  ancient  hemisphere  is  brought  to  light.  What 
momentous  questions  present  themselves !  Another  world  1 
Is  it  a  twin  sister  of  the  ancient  world  ?  It  has  mountains, 
and  rivers,  and  lakes,  and  forests ;  but  does  it  contain  the 
homes  of  man  ?  of  cultivated  races,  who  have  pursued,  inde 
pendently  of  their  Eastern  brethren,  separate,  perhaps  higher 
paths  of  civilization?  In  a  word,  has  the  great  cause  of 
humanity,  made  an  immediate  gain  by  the  wonderful  event 
which  has  added  so  much  to  the  geography  of  the  world,  as 
before  known  ? 

"The  first  contact  answered  these  great  questions  in  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  69 

negative.  The  native  races, — apparently  incapable  of  assimi 
lation, — seemed  doomed  by  a  mysterious  Providence  to  pass 
away.  The  Spaniard  came  upon  them,  borne  on  winged  mon 
sters,  as  they  thought,  from  beyond  the  sea;  careering  on 
strange  quadrupeds,  horse  and  rider,  as  they  supposed,  form 
ing  but  one  animal,  and  he  advanced  under  cover  of  that 
fearful  ordnance  which  they  confounded  with  the  three-bolted 
artillery  of  the  skies ;  he  came  in  all  these  terrors,  and  he 
brought  them  death. 

"  Those  that  escaped  have  borrowed  little  from  us  but  the 
poisoned  cup — the  loathsome  malady — the  murderous  weapon. 
The  skies  are  mild,  the  soil  is  fertile,  there  is  every  variety  of 
climate, — a  boundless  theatre  for  human  enjoyment  and  action, 
—but  the  appointed  agent  was  not  there.  Over  the  greater 
part  of  the  new-found  continent,  society,  broken  down  by 
eternal  wars  between  neighboring  tribes, — at  once  in  its  de 
crepitude  and  infancy, — had  not  yet  risen  even  to  the  pastoral 
stage.  Nature,  in  fact,  had  not  bestowed  upon  man  the  mute 
but  faithful  partners  of  his  toil — the  horse,  the  ox,  the  sheep, 
and  other  still  humbler  associates,  whose  aid  (did  we  but  know 
it)  lies  at  the  basis  of  his  civilization ; — who  furnish  so  much 
of  his  food  and  clothing — meat,  milk,  eggs,  and  wool,  and 
skins,  and  relieve  his  weary  muscles  of  their  heaviest  burdens. 
There  is  no  civilized  population  to  stand  up  and  enter  into 
equal  comparison  and  generous  rivalry  with  Europe.  The  dis 
coverer  has  come  ;  but  the  settler,  the  colonist,  the.  conqueror, 
alas,  that  I  must  add,  too  often  the  oppressor  and  destroyer, 
are  to  follow  in  his  train.  By  these  various  agencies— 


70  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    A.XD 

joyous  and  sorrowful — through  these  parts  of  triumph  and 
woe — the  culture  of  the  old  world,  in  the  lapse  of  successive 
generations,  reformed  of  its  abuses,  enriched  with  new  arts, 
animated  by  a  broader  spirit  of  humanity, — transferred  from 
the  privileged  few  to  the  mass  of  the  community, — is  to  be 
reproduced  and  perfected  in  the  West. 

"  I  need  not  say  to  this  company,  assembled  on  the  shores 
of  the  haven  for  which  so  many  noble  hearts  on  that  terrible 
voyage  throbbed  with  sickening  expectancy — that  quiet  haven 
where  the  Mayflower  furled  her  tattered  sails — that  a  greater, 
a  nobler  work  was  never  performed  by  man.  Truly  the  opus 
magnum,  the  great  work  of  humanity.  You  bid  me  speak  of 
that  Dortion  of  it  which  devolved  on  the  Pilgrims.  Would  to 
Hearen  I  could  find  words  to  do  justice  even  to  my  own  poor 
conceptions,  and  still  more  that  I  could  find  conceptions  not 
far  below  the  august  reality.  A  mighty  work  of  improvement, 
in  whicn  (not  to  speak  of  what  has  been  done  in  other  por 
tions  01  the  continent,)  the  poor  solitary  Mayflower,  so  to  say, 
has  multiplied  herself  into  the  thousand  vessels  that  bear  the 
flag  of  the  Union  to  every  sea ;  has  scattered  her  progeny 
through  the  land,  to  the  number  of  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
million  for  every  individual  in  that  drooping  company  of  one 
hundred ;  and  in  place  of  the  simple  compact,  which  was 
signed  in  her  cabin,  has  exhibited  to  the  admiration  of  man 
kind  a  Constitution  of  Republican  Government  for  all  this 
growing  family  of  prosperous  States.  But  the  work  is  in  its 
infancy.  It  must  extend  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land  ;  and  what  is  not  done  directly  by  ourselves,  must  be 


OT7-KA1TD    TAKING,  l 

done  by  other  governments  and  other  races,  by  the  light  of  OUT 
example.'  The  work — the  work  must  go  on.  It  must  reach; 
at  the  North,  to  the  enchanted  cave  of  the  magnet,  within 
never-melting  barriers  of  Arctic  ice ;  it  must  bow  to  the  lord 
of  day  on  the  altar-peak  of  Chimborazo;  it  must  look  up 
and  worship  the  Southern  Cross.  From  the  easternmost  cliff 
on  the  Atlantic,  that  blushes  in  the  kindling  dawn,  to  the  last 
promontory  on  the  Pacific,  which  catches  the  parting  kiss  of 
the  setting  sun,  it  must  make  the  outgoings  of  the  morning 
and  the  evening  to  rejoice  in  the  gladsome  light  of  morals, 
and  letters,  and  arts.  Emperors,  and  kings,  and  parliaments 
— the  oldest  and  the  strongest  governments  in  Europe, — must 
engage  in  this  work,  in  some  part  or  other  of  the  continent, 
but  no  part  of  it  shall  be  so  faithfully  and  successfully  per 
formed  as  that  which  was  undertaken  on  the  spot  where  we 
are  now  gathered,  by  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  of  New  England." 


CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


JOHN  P.  HALE. 

JOHN  P.  HALE  is  a  free-and-easy,  fat-and-social  man,  who 
can  relish  a  dish  of  oysters,  or  a  good  joke,  as  well  as  any 
member  of  the  Senate.  He  has  the  courage  of  Cromwell,  and 
the  fun  of  Falstaff.  He  has  a  strong  hand  at  one  end  of  his 
arm,  and  a  strong  head  at  the  other.  When  he  shakes  the 
former,  you  feel  a  heart  throbbing  in  the  palm;  when  he 
shakes  the  latter,  it  is  the  signal  of  a  storm  that  will  hail 
for  the  space  of  an  hour,  and  every  stone  will  be  the  weight 
of  a  talent. 

Feote  may  rave  and  foam,  and  threaten  to  hang  Hale,  his 
genial  and  generous  fellow  senator,  on  the  tallest  tree  in 
Mississippi ;  but  there  will  be  a  response  so  apropos,  so  full  of 
humor,  from  such  a  sunshiny  countenance,  the  peppery  Missis- 
sippian  will  be  ashamed  of  his  impotent  imprecations.  There 
is  more  thunder  and  lightning  in  the  crack  of  Bale's  joke, 
than  there  is  punishment  in  the  crack  of  Foote's  pistol.  The 
pungent  wit  of  the  former  is  more  destructive  than  the  explo 
ding  powder  of  the  latter.  The  sarcasm  and  irony  of  the 
Northerner  is  more  dreaded  than  the  sulphur  and  saltpetre  of 
the  Southerner.  The  cool  man  of  "Granite"  is  more  than  a 
match  for  the  choleric  representative  of  "Cotton."  The  small 
sword  of  wit  cuts  deeper  than  the  bowie-knife  of  wrath. 


-EniSra-vecLT3y  J .  C  .Euttr* 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  f3 

Foote  is  a  middle-aged  gentleman,  with  a  bald  head,  sear  face, 
shrunken 'limbs,  and  restless  manners,  and  so  ignitable,  it  is  a 
wonder  he  has  not  caught  fire  and  burnt  up  long  ago.  Hale 
is  in  the  prime  of  life,  broad  shouldered,  broad  chested,  and 
stout  limbed,  and  he  has  such  control  over  his  temper,  he 
never  forgets  to  be  courteous,  even  to  those  who  permit 
passion  to  rule  reason,  while  they  sink  the  glorious  dignity  of 
the  statesman  to  the  gladiatorial  level  of  the  blackguard  and 
the  bully.  Hale  can  flog  the  powdery  senator  in  debate,  and 
fling  him  out  of  the  window  of  the  Capitol  afterwards,  as 
Oommodus  threw  Oleander  out  of  the  Roman  palace. 

Foote  has  the  most  finished  education,  Hale  the  most  prac 
tical  sense ;  Foote  has  read  history,  and  is  familiar  with  the 
past,  Hale  has  associated  with  the  people,  and  knows  the  neces 
sities  of  the  present ;  Foote  understands  parliamentary  usages, 
Hale  observes  the  rules  of  the  Senate ;  Foote  is  nervous, 
furious,  and  vituperative,  Hale  is  pleasant,  manly  and  earnest ; 
Foote  has  the  rasping  severity  of  Randolph,  without  his  glow 
ing  eloquence ;  the  brilliancy  of  Lee,  without  his  chaste 
dignity;  Hale  has  the  self-reliance  of  Benton,  without 
his  general  information.  The  former  is  a  Cavalier,  the 
latter  a  Roundhead.  One  would  have  fought  to  the  death  for 
King  Charles,  the  other  would  have  united  with  republican 
Oliver ;  one  is  of  the  South,  so  extreme  as  to  be  tropical,  the 
other  of  the  North,  so  distant  as  to  be  frigid.  When  that 
great  Nebuchadnezzar,  the  Compromise  Bill,  with  its  Lead  of 
gold  (without  brains),  its  feet  of  Clay  (without  a  foothold), 
was  set  up,  Mr.  Hale  refused  to  bow  before  it ;  consequently 

4 


74  CRAYOJV    SKETCHES,    AND 

he  was  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  cast  into  the  heated  furnace , 
but  he  came  out  without  the  smell  of  fire  upon  his  garments, 
During  the  last  session  of  the  Senate  he  was  like  Daniel  (not 
the  Webster)  in  the  lions'  den,  but  he  remained  uninjured, 
although  there  was  no  angel  present  to  keep  the  mouths  of 
the  lions  closed. 

Mr.  Hale  is  a  man  whose  telescopic  discernment  enables 
him  to  discover  danger  at  a  distance,  and  when  unwise  or 
reckless  statesmen  plot  the  ruin  of  the  nation,  he  sends  up  a 
rocket  so  that  its  showers  of  sparks,  sheet  of  fire,  and  startling 
report,  may  attract  the  attention  of  the  people.  When  that 
infamous  Compromise  Bill  was  before  the  Senate,  he  frequently 
fired  an  alarm  gun,  to  warn  his  constituents  and  his  country 
men.  Although  he  is  constitutionally  indolent,  when  his 
mercury  is  made  to  rise  to  the  blood  heat  of  excitement  he  is 
a  giant,  and  ordinary  men  are  like  grass-hoppers  in  his  hands. 
He  has  not  genius  to  originate,  neither  does  he  display  much 
original  skill ;  but  his  words  drop  at  the  right  time  and  in 
the  right  place,  as  the  seed  falls  from  the  hands  of  the  sower 
into  the  furrow.  He  puts  new  wine  into  old  bottles,  and  bursts 
them.  He  is  a  man  for  the  times,  and  speaks  the  language 
as  well  as  the  sentiments  of  the  masses.  The  man  bleached 
in  the  factory,  and  the  man  bronzed  in  the  foundry,  under 
stand  him  without  the  aid  of  an  interpreter. 

Mr.  Hale  is  sociable  and  affable  in  his  manner,  hearty  and 
pleasant  in  his  address.  He  has  the  courage  to  patronize  and 
defend  whatever  is  designed  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the 
human  race,  and  the  firmness  to  remain  the  unfaltering  friend 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  75 

of  humanity.  He  speaks  fluently  and  feelingly,  and  his  style 
and  sentiment  are  both  forcible  and  persuasive.  He  is  a  man 
of  foresight  and  sagacity,  and  keeps  pace  with  the  march  of 
progress.  He  speaks  in  behalf  of  the  African  race,  and  pleads 
for  the  Abstinence  cause. 

In  personal  appearance,  Mr.  Hale  is  a  large,  stout  man, 
somewhat  inclined  to  corpulency;  has  a  full,  healthy,  rosy 
face ;  dark  hair,  touched  with  frost ;  blue  eyes,  beaming  with 
mirthfulness ;  an  ample  chest  swelling  with  a  generous  heart, 
and  shoulders  strong  enough  to  bear  the  cross  of  his  party. 

We  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  insert  the  following 
graphic  sketch  from  the  ready  pen  of  Mrs.  Swisshelm : 

"  Hale  is  just  as  he  looks  in  the  Senate  there.  He  has  the 
greatest  amount  of  droll  humor  and  sly  sarcasm  that  ever  fell 
to  the  lot  of  one  man ;  but  our  opinion  of  him  is,  that  the 
basis  of  his  character  is  combativeness  and  firmness.  Let  any 
one  walk  up  the  pave  behind  him,  and  notice  the  way  he  sets 
down  his  foot!  Every  step  says,  'there;'  and  there  he  is. 
When  he  has  taken  a  position  he  will  keep  it,  because  he 
took  it  for  no  other  purpose.  Attempts  to  drive  him  thence 
will  only  fasten  him  down.  Rouse  the  lion  in  him,  and  you 
may  kill,  but  never  conquer  him.  Opposition  is  the  most 
powerful  incentive  to  action.  He  loves  an  antagonistic  posi 
tion  for  the  sake  of  its  antagonism,  and  the  reason  he  is  so 
perfectly  good-humored  while  contending  most  obstinately,  is, 
that  strife  affords  the  most  ample  scope  for  his  energies — 
leaves  no  faculty  to  rust.  At  least,  that  is  our  opinion  of  him, 


T6  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

jnd  we  would  trust  our  life  to  his  stability  and  faithfulness,  so 
long  as  the  cause  in  which  he  labors  is  unpopular — very 
unpopular  ;  but  let  him  take  the  popular  side  of  the  question, 
and  he  would  be  a  very  small  matter.  Let  the  cause  in 
which  he  labors  become  fashionable,  and  it  is  done  with  John 
P.  Hale.  Liberty  may  trust  him  to  advocate  her  cause  so 
long  as  she  is  an  outcast,  and  while  she  has  desperate  battles 
to  fight.  He  will  be  very  respectful  to  her  ladyship,  while 
other  people  publicly  spit  upon  her ;  but  if  she  becomes  a 
reigning  princess,  and  crowds  of  courtiers  kneel  at  her  feet,  he 
will  either  turn  round  with  a  careless  fling,  walk  off  to  attend 
to  some  other  business,  without  thinking  to  go  backwards  out 
of  the  royal  presence ;  or  he  would  hide  behind  a  pillar  of 
her  majesty's  palace,  and  shoot  bits  of  potatoe  at  her  out  of  a 
quill  pop-gun.  We  do  not  believe  he  has  a  particle  of  vene 
ration  for  anything  but  weakness  and  misfortune,  or  that  he 
could  set  a  high  value  on  anything  that  was  not  very  difficult 
to  obtain. 

"  We  walked  up  Pennsylvania  Avenue  behind  him  one  day, 
and  watched  him  wearing  the  outside  off  the  heels  of  his 
boots  with  his  firm  dogged  step,  as  he  conversed  with  a  gen 
tleman,  turning  his  head  on  one  side  or  the  other,  with  an  air 
of  droll  waggery  that  is  almost  peculiar  to  him,  and  we  fancied 
we  saw  him,  a  little  short-necked  urchin,  in  slip  and  pinafore, 
with  his  little,  fat  fists  clenched,  and  every  nerve  strung  to  its 
utmost  tension,  fighting  with  a  youngster  in  breeches,  twice 
his  own  size,  for  an  apple  which  he  deemed  his  peculiar  pro 
perty.  We  watch  the  battle  in  imagination,  until,  with 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  77 

bloody  nose  and  well-pulled  hair,  he  held  the  prize  secure, 
and  stood  looking  defiance  at  his  antagonist,  and  the  other 
young  diplomatist  with  a  snaky  eye,  and  assumed  look  of 
indifference,  calling  out,  as  if  in  triumph,  'He!  he!  keep 
your  old  apple!  I  didn't  want  it!  I've  got  a  whole 
load !' 

"  There  was  the  look  of  hesitation,  a  moment's  pause,  and, 
without  a  word,  the  object  of  contention  was  hurled  at  the 
head  of  the  young  intriguer,  while  John  tottled  off  in  pursuit 
of  something  better  worth  having ;  and  perfectly  satisfied  with 
the  result  of  his  encounter. 

"  If  he  has  not  or  does  not,  at  some  time  of  his  manhood's 
career,  re-enact  this  imaginary  childish  scene,  we  have  greatly 
mistaken  him,  or  he  has  and  will  exercise  this  supreme  con 
trol  of  reason  over  natural  bent,  which,  in  this  case,  would  be 
almost  superhuman.  If  he  does  not,  at  some  time,  toss  his 
fame  into  the  face  of  the  public,  from  whom  he  has  won  it, 
and  start  full  chase  after  something  else,  he  is  not  the  John 
P.  Hale  we  take  him  to  be.  With  him  a  day  of  pursuit  is 
worth  twenty  of  possession.  Abolitionists  ought  not  to  blame 
him  if  he  really  throws  up  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  as  it  is 
rumored  he  will.  He  was  true  to  the  strongest  impulses  of 
his  nature  while  he  stood  there  alone,  and  fought  their  battles. 
He  is  alone  no  longer !  It  is  a  mooted  point  if  he  be  not  in 
the  majority,  and  he  has  not  half  enough  work  to  keep  him 
busy.  The  very  impulses  that  drove  him  into  the  Senate  are 
now  driving  him  out  of  it.  He  may  resist  them,  but  it  will 
\>e  an  unnatural  warfare,  and  his  spirit  will  chafe  under  it. 


78  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

If  Free  Soil  gains  a  triumph  in  Congress,  and  he  stays  there, 
just  see  if  his  good  humor  is  not  impaired — if  he  does  not 
grow  ill-tempered  for  want  of  something  with  which  to  con 
tend.  Like  Alexander,  he  will  take  sick  for  want  of  more 
worlds  to  conquer." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


FATHER  TAYLOR. 

/ 

Such  vast  impressions  did  his  sermons  make, 

He  always  kept  his  flock  awake.  DR.  WOLCOTT. 

I  venerate  the  man  whose  heart  is  warm, 

Whose  hands  are  pure,  whose  doctrines  and  whose  life 

Coincident,  exhibit  lucid  proof 

That  he  is  honest  in  the  sacred  cause.  COWPER. 

ONE  Sunday  morning  I  went  to  the  Sailors'  Chapel  in 
Boston,  to  see  and  hear  the  far-famed  mariners'  preacher, 
Father  Taylor.  He  was  reading  the  familiar  hymn  which 
commences  with  the  well-known  lines,  "  Come,  thou  fount  of 
every  blessing,"  when  I  entered  the  house  of  worship.  The 
choir  wedded  the  words  to  music — the  Divine  blessing  was 
invoked — a  chapter  was  read — and  then  the  sixteenth  verse 
of  the  third  chapter  of  Colossians  was  selected  as  the  basis  of 
the  discourse.  The  striking  peculiarities  of  the  eccentric  and 
celebrated  preacher  cannot  fail  to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
seamen  and  landsmen  who  attend  his  church.  He  rises  clum 
sily  from  the  sofa  in  the  pulpit,  and  puts  his  fore-finger  on  the 
text  as  though  he  anticipated  the  danger  of  losing  it,  or  wag 
determined  to  stick  to  it.  After  reading  it  distinctly  and  delib 
erately,  he  is  pretty  sure  to  raise  the  spectacles  from  his  eyes 
tmd  let  them  rest  over  the  organs  of  causality. 

Father  Taylor  does  not  ape  the  clerical  stiffness  which  so 


80  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

ill-becomes  those  who  strive  to  make  up  in  dignity  what  thej 
'.ack  in  devotion  and  intellect.  When  he  walks  the  pulpit 
floor,  like  a  caged  lion,  or  pounds  the  desk  with  his  fists,  there 
seems  to  be,  and  doubtless  is,  honesty  in  his  zeal.  When  he 
distorts  his  weather-beaten  face,  and  swings  his  out-stretched 
arms  about  him,  and  shakes  his  lean  fingers  in  the  faces  of  his 
li  carers,  we  see  that  he  has  in  him  the  elements  of  a  good 
actor.  He  is  an  odd  genius,  and  I  have  no  hesitation  in  affirm 
ing  that  he  will  utter  more  wise  sayings  and  more  sayings  that 
are  otherwise,  in  a  single  sermon,  than  any  other  man  in  Massa 
chusetts.  Not  unfrequently  he  mixes  his  pathos  and  humor  so 
evenly,  the  listener  knows  not  whether  to  laugh  or  weep.  One 
minute  he  appeals  to  Heaven,  in  a  strain  of  sublimity  that 
excites  your  admiration  and  astonishment;  and  the  next 
moment  he  appeals  to  Mr.  Foster,  or  some  other  member  of 
his  congregation,  in  a  style  not  comporting  with  the  idea 
most  men  have  of  the  dignity  of  the  pulpit.  Now,  with  com 
pressed  lips,  grating  teeth  and  flashing  eyes,  he  denounces  some 
vice  or  some  heresy,  in  words  steeped  in  a  solution  of  brim 
stone  ;  and  then,  with  a  smiling  countenance,  upturned  eyes, 
and  outspread  hands,  he  lavishes  encomiums  on  hope,  faith, 
love,  virtue,  piety.  Now  he  pours  out  a  torrent  of  adjectives, 
as  though  he  resolved  to  exhaust  the  vocabulary ;  then  follows 
a  stream  of  nouns,  from  his  unfailing  Cochituate  of  language: 
His  sermons  are  ornamented  with  gems  of  poetry. 

The  following  extracts  from  the  sermon  I  heard  a  week  or 

O 

two  since,  will  give  the  reader  a  tolerable  idea  of  his  matter ; 
his  manner  is  unreportable,  for  he  is  the  Booth  of  the  Boston 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  81 

pulpit.  "Some  men,"  said  he,  "will  lie  for  a  glass  of  grog,  and 
some  women  will  lie  for  a  cup  of  tea.  If  God  respects  some 
sinners  more  than  others,  there  will  be  a  back  hole  in  hell  for 
liars."  "  Who  are  so  low,  vile,  mean,  hateful,  as  the  wholesale 
dealers  and  the  retail  pedlars  in  lies?"  He  prefaced  a  quo 
tation  from  Proverbs  with  these  words :  "  Solomon  was  a 
wise  old  fellow,  although  he  had  strange  notions  about  some 
things."  Speaking  of  backsliders,  he  observed :  "  They  slide 
by  moonshining  and  deceiving  themselves."  He  ridiculed, 
with  bitter  severity,  the  Oratorios  of  the  present  day;  said  that 
"profane  lips  dared  to  imitate  the  groans  of  Christ  upon  the 
cross.  Infidels,  with  instruments  of  music,  endeavored  to  show 
the  sufferings  of  the  Saviour  in  the  garden — the  driving  of  the 
nails,  the  dripping  of  the  blood  upon  the  accursed  tree — and 
they  mimicked  the  blast  of  the  angel's  trumpet."  It  was 
an  eloquent  and  just  rebuke  to  those  who  trifle  with  sacred 
things. 

Father  Taylor  is  a  plain-looking  man,  and  his  bronzed  face 
is  strongly  marked.  He  is  now  in  the  sunset  of  life,  and  his 
head  is  thickly  sprinkled  with  grey  hairs.  When  excited,  his 
voice  is  harsh,  and  conveys  the  impression  to  the  mind,  that 
the  "man  behind  it"  hates  the  devil  more  than  he  loves  Jesus. 
He  is  volcanic,  and  is  often  guided  more  by  impulse  than  by 
intellect.  Although  he  is  in  the  autumn  of  his  years,  he  can 
perform  more  service,  endure  more  hardship,  and  preach 
better  sermons,  than  half  the  young  preachers  of  the  present 

iay. 


82  CRAYON  SKETCHES,  AND 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN. 

No  one  at  all  acquainted  with  the  political  history  of  the 
United  States,  will  deny  the  fact  that  John  C.  Calhoun,  was 
one  of  the  distinguished  few  whose  voices  penetrated  every 
portion  of  our  country.  His  bold  and  sententious  and 
condensed  utterances  were  also  echoed  in  other  lands,  and 
excited  indignation  and  admiration  everywhere.  The  lovers 
of  universal  liberty  admired  his  genius,  while  they  deplored 
his  course  in  the  council  chamber  of  state.  Earnestly, 
eloquently,  and  perseveringly  did  he  labor,  in  season  and  out 
of  season,  to  defend  and  perpetuate  slavery.  Unlike  such 
men  as  Jefferson,  Randolph,  Henry,  and  Clay,  he  regarded 
human  slavery  as  an  invaluable  blessing — promoting  the 
welfare  of  society,  advancing  the  prosperity  of  the  nation, 
and  perpetuating  the  free  institutions  of  the  Republic — while 
they,  on  the  contrary,  declared  involuntary  servitude  an 
unmitigated  curse — impairing  our  social  happiness,  hampering 
the  welfare  of  our  common  country,  and  threatening  the 
stability  of  our  free  institutions. 

John  C.  Calhoun  was  a  sectional  senator — South  Carolina 
was  so  vast  in  his  eye,  he  could  never  look  beyond  its 
boundaries.  He  legislated  and  labored  in  his  study  and  in 
the  senate,  not  for  the  good  of  the  United  States,  but  for  the 
protection  and  prosperity  of  South  Carolina.  That  state  was 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  83 

all  the  world  to  him,  and  he  knew  no  North,  no  East,  no 
West.    ' 

It  is  astonishing  that  any  man,  having  such  breadth  of 
character,  and  such  depth  of  intellect,  did  not  have 
more  comprehensive  views — Webster  went  for  our  coun 
try,  however  bounded — Winthrop  for  our  country,  right 
or  wrong,  but  Calhoun  went  for  South  Carolina — for  her 
men,  her  laws,  her  institutions,  and  her  slaves.  He 
toiled  during  a  life-time,  to  persuade  the  world,  that 
slavery  was  not  an  infringement  on  the  rights  of  man. 
He  was  aware  that  it  paid  no  respect  to  the  institution  of 
marriage,  and  made  every  cabin  liable  to  become  a  brothel. 
He  knew  that  whips,  and  chains,  and  yokes,  and  thumbscrews, 
and  bloodhounds,  were  some  of  the  accompaniments  of  such 
a  state  of  society,  yet  he  defended  it.  He  knew  that  it 
separated  husband  from  wife,  and  child  from  parent,  and 
consigned  three  millions  of  human  beings  to  stripes,  and 
sorrow,  and  premature  death  ;  yet  he  demanded  its  everlasting 
perpetuation.  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  speaking,  said  of  him, 
with  characteristic  vigor,  soon  after  Calhoun  made  an  able^ 
speech  in  the  senate :  "  There  is  no  blood  in  him — he  is  as 
cold  as  a  corpse-.  He  is  made  of  iron,  not  flesh ;  he  is 
hybridous,  not  natural."  Having  seen  the  most  forbidding 
side  of  the  picture,  let  us  do  him  and  ourselves  the  justice  to 
look  at  the  favorable  side.  He  was  a  consistent  man,  there 
was  no  two-facedness,  no  double-heartedness,  no  dough  in 
the  composition  of  his  nature.  Whichever  way  the  wind 
might  blow — whatever  course  the  flood  might  take — he  waa 


84  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

the  same  unfaltering  and  invincible  advocate  of  sla\ery 
There  was  no  chicanery,  no  humbug,  no  hoisting  of  false 
colors,  no  underhandedness  in  his  course.  He  made  the 
auction  block  his  platform,  and  there  he  sounded  the  bugle 
blast  in  the  ear  of  the  nation,  and  acknowledged  that  he  was 
the  champion  of  chattel  slavery.  No  electioneering  tricks, 
no  flattering  nominations,  no  log  rolling,  no  wire  pulling,  no 
\  efforts  of  friends,  no  party  considerations ;  nothing  contained 
\  in  the  exchequer,  could  cause  him  to  swerve  a  single  hair,  for 
a  single  moment,  from  his  straightforward  course. 

He  was  frank ;  his  votes,  and  speeches,  and  efforts  were 
open  and  above  board.  He  never  dodged,  never  failed  to 
commit  himself  when  an  opportunity  was  presented  to  show 
his  hand ;  and  never  wore  the  white  feather  when  assailed  by 
his  fellow  senators.  He  was  personally  a  virtuous  man, 
honest  in  his  dealings  (save  with  his  slaves,  he  never  paid 
them),  sober  (except  when  intoxicated  with  excitement,  in 
defending  slavery),  chaste  (his  plantation  was  undoubtedly 
like  others).  I  say,  personally,  he  was  a  brave,  honest,  frank, 
chaste,  and  virtuous  man.  He  had  an  active  organization, 
and  his  fiery  temperament  made  him  an  injudicious  and 
unsafe  counsellor,  although  his  intellect  was  mightier  than  his 
impulses.  When  His  head  and  heart  were  cool,  he  was 
generally  right  on  all  subjects^  save  on  P.,  He  was  a  man  of 
unbounded  ambition,  inflexible  dignity,  and  great  weight  of 
character;  besides,  he  was  wilful  in  his  resolutions  and 
hi domi  table  in  his  perseverance.  He  had  wonderful  self-pos- 
sc?sion,  and  plenty  of  assurance  for  a  score  of  ordinary  men ; 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  9.^ 

some  say  he  had  a  better  balanced  head  than  either  of  his 
great  compeers  ;  Ihatliis.  judgment  was  more  correct,  and  his 
views  more  ^consistent  than  theirs.  It  is  certain  he  was 
distinguished  for  clearness  of  conception,  copiousness  of  logic, 
and  appropriateness  of  illustration.  His  speeches  are  more 
remarkable  for  condensed  logic,  than  luminous  ornament. 
He  had  the  vehemence  of  Clay,  without  his  bonhommie  ;  the 
terseness  of  Benton,  without  his  humanity  ;  the  philosophy  of 
Cass,  without  his  double-dealing.  If  he  was  not  so  colossal  as 
Webster,  he  was  a  closer  reasoner,  and  his  transparent 
earnestness  won  the  admiration  of  those  who  were  indig 
nant  at  his  doctrines ;  indeed,  men  of  all  parties,  and  in  all  parts 
of  the  country,  entertained  but  one  opinion  respecting  the 
consistency  of  John  C.  Calhoun. 

He  was  not  a  man  of  universal  acquirements,  although  he 
understood  jurisprudence,  mathematics,  Modern  history,  gene 
ral  literature,  the  classic  languages,  and  politics.  The  peculiar 
features  for  which  he  is  noted,  are  his  practical  and  subtle 
reasoning  powers,  his  intuitive  gifts  of  perception,  and  his 
magnetic  influence  over  his  associates  and  friends.  In  public, 
he  spoke  in  a  tone  approximating  to  autocratic  authority 
(excuse  the  alliteration).  Occasionally  he  was  vehement  as  a 
cataract;  at  such  times  he  did  not  curb  his  passions,  nor 
restraining  invective,  but  dashed  right  on  with  lightning  in 

his   eyes,  and  thunder  on   his  Jrps^ now  tearing  a  bit  of 

sophistry  to  shreds;  now  laboring  an  argument  fused  in. ths 
fire  of  his  eloquence ;  now  lifting  the  veil  from  the  goddess  of 
Liberty,  to  show  his  auditors  her  face,  then  uttering  sentiments 


80  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

that  might  make  the  busts  of  Washington,  and  Adams,  and 
Madison  blush  with  shame.  On,  on,  he  dashed,  with  tho 
rapidity  of  a  race-horse,  out-speeding  the  swiftest  reporters — • 
saying  more  words  in  a  given  time,  than  any  other  man. 
Wit  is  a  weapon  too  small  for  our  Hercules  to  wield  ;  poetry 
is  not  practical  enough  for  him ;  besides,  slavery  detests 
poetry,  and  cannot  boast  a  single  stanza  in  its  defence  ;  pathos 
he  has  not ;  but  he  has  philosophy,  history,  argument,  facts, 
at  his  fingers'  ends,  and  he  uses  them  as  they  were  never  used 
before,,  for  he  is  the  only  prominent  man  who  in  any  age,  in 
any  land  plead  for  slavery  as  a  blessed  institution,  to  be 
sustained  at  all  hazards,  for  the  social  and  political  welfare  of 
the  world.  What  a  paradoxical  man  was  the  great  Calhoun  ; 
yet  he  was  idolized  by  the  South  Carolinians,  and  they  would 
have  been  willing  to  have  crowned  the  great  Nullifier  their 
king,  and  then  they  would  have  become  his  dutiful  subjects. 

A  word  or  two  respecting  his  personal  appearance  must 
conclude  this  sketch. 

Mr.  Calhoun  was  a  tall,  thin,  straight,  wiry  man,  with 
sharp  angular  features  ;  hair,  originally  black,  but  turned 
quite  grey  before  he  died.  It  was  coarse,  and  bristled  up  in 
the  most  combative  manner  imaginable,  and  trespassed  .on 
that  part  of  the  forehead  which  is  usually  bare,  consequently, 
some  persons,  unacquainted  with  the  science  of  phrenology, 
have  quoted  his  peculiar  formation  of  head,  as  evidence 
against  its  doctrines.  Doctor  Lyman  Beecher,  the  grandfather 
of  Uncle  Tom,  and  the  father  of  the  temperance  enterprise,  ia 
another  i  istance  of  this  nature,  which  has  been  used  by  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  87 

sceptical  in  the  same  way;  whereas  the  doctor  has  a 
magnificent  head,  well  balanced,  and  large  at  the  right 
points,  to  make  him  the  blessed,  good  man  he  is.  Excuse 
this  digression,  I  have  a  vagrant  pen,  and  I  have  neither  bit 
nor  bridle  in  its  nib  this  evening.  I  have  the  impression  that 
Calhoun  was  of  the  nervous,  bilious  temperament,  perhaps 
the  bilious  predominated.  He  had  great  vital  and  great 
muscular  as  well  as  great  mental  power.  Great  as  was  the 
reputation  of  Calhoun,  it  did  not  equal  his  ability.  He  had 
brain  and  bone  enough  to  sustain  himself  in  almost  any 
contest.  An  author  who  had  frequently  seen  him  and  heard 
him  speak  in  Washington,  says,  "  I  do  not  now  remember  to 
have  met  an  organization  of  greater  power,  during  all  my 
yisits  at  Washington.  Webster  had  more  vital  power,  and 
perhaps,  as  much  muscular,  but  not  as  much  mental. 
Calhoun's  head  was  not  as  large  as  Webster's,  though  it  was 
decidedly  large.  On  a  great  occasion,  Webster  was  decidedly 
the  greatest  man ;  but  under  all  circumstances,  and  when  his 
powers  were  not  wrought  up  and  brought  out  by  some 
powerful  stimulus,  he  was  probably  not  so  great.  In  matters 
of  detail  and  practical  affairs,  Calhoun,  probably  excelled; 
but  for  profound  argument,  Constitutional  questions,  conduct 
ing  great  matters,  &c.,  Webster  had  the  best  developments. 
Still  the  powerful,  the  impressive,  the  forcible,  the  deep,  and 
the  efficient,  are  the  prevailing  characteristics  of  both, 
Calhoun's  organization  combines  tremendous  powers  with 
great  activity ;  these  two  conditions  are  rarely  united  in  any 
one  man  to  as  great  a  degree.  He  was  indeed  a  great  man. 


88  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Clay's  reputation  was  equal  to  his  talents,  which  were  of  a 
brilliant,  showy  order.  Not  so  with  those  of  Calhoun.  He 
was  all  that  he  was  supposed  to  be.  *  *  *  * 

"It  is  doubtful  if  there  was  a  higher  forehead  in 
Washington.  Clay's  appeared  larger,  for  the  hair  retired  in 
him ;  but  the  development  of  his  reasoning  organs  was, 
indeed,  immense,  especially  comparison."  In  alluding  to  the 
fact,  that  Mr.  Calhoun's  hair  "  grew  lower  down  on  his  fore 
head,"  he  observes,  "The  fact,  that  the  hair  grew  on  the 
reasoning  organs,  does  not  affect  either  size  or  power,  for  it  is 
as  easy  to  think  through  the  hair  as  without  it." 

With  the  following  specimens  of  his  speech-making,  I 
conclude  this  article. 


EXTRACTS    FROM    THE    SPEECH    OF    JOHN    C.    CALHOUN,    IN    THE 
SOUTHERN    CAUCUS,    1848. 

*  *  *  "  I  consider  the  address  indispensable.  Whatever 
action  is  taken  must  proceed  from  the  slaveholding  states. 
If  the  Constitution  be  violated,  and  their  rights  encroached 
upon,  it  is  for  them  to  determine  the  mode  and  measure  of 
redress.  We  can  only  suggest  and  advise.  We  are  in  the 
theatre  of  action,  the  witnesses  of  the  alarming  encroach 
ments  which  have  been  going  on  upon  the  r.ghts  of  the 
slaveholding  part  of  the  Confederacy.  We  see  them  plainly, 
we  feel  them  deeply.  They  are  rapid  and  alarming  ;  for  who 
would  have  believed,  even  three  years  ago.  that  preparations, 
which  have  within  a  few  days  past  commanded  the  support 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  89 

of  a  majority  of  tlio  Lower  house  of  Congress,  would  nave 
been  tolerated  by  any  respectable  portion  of  either  house  ? 

"  We  are  in  the  midst  of  events  scarcely  of  less  import  than 
those  of  our  revolutionary  era.  The  question  is,  are  we  to 
hold  our  position  in  this  Confederacy  upon  the  ground  of 
equals,  or  are  we  to  content  ourselves  with  the  position  of 
Colonial  Dependence  ?  Sir,  it  would  be  worse  than  Colonial 
Dependence.  For  who  would  not  prefer  to  be  taxed  and 
governed  without  pretence  of  representation,  than,  under  the 
form  of  representation,  to  be  greviously  oppressed  by  measures 
over  which  we  have  no  control,  and  against  which  our 
remonstrances  are  unavailing  ? 

"  It  is  undeniable,  that  encroachments  upon  our  rights  have 
been  rapid  and  alarming.  They  must  be  met.  I  conceive, 
that  no  Southern  man  can  entertain,  for  one  moment,  the 
idea  of  tame  submission. 

"  The  action  of  the  South  should  be  united,  temperate,  but 
decided.  Our  position  must  be  taken  deliberately,  but  held 
at  every  hazard.  We  wage  no  war  of  aggression.  We  ask 
only  for  the  Constitution,  and  Union,  and  government  of  our 
fathers.  We  ask  our  Northern  brethren  to  leave  us  those 
rights  and  privileges  which  our  fathers  held,  and  without 
securing  which  for  their  children,  all  know  they  would  not 
have  entered  into  this  Union.  These  we  must  maintain. 

"  It  appears  to  me  proper  that  we,  who  are  on  the  theatre 
of  action,  should  address  our  constituents  of  the  slaveholding 
states ;  briefly  and  accurately  portray  the  progress  of  usurpa- 
tion  and  aggression,  vividly  exhibit  the  dangers  which 


90  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

threaten,  and  leave  it  in  their  hands  to  mark  out  the  propel 
time  of  action. 

"What   that   should    be,  it  is   needless   here   to   discuss, 
Whatever  it  is,  it  should  be  temperate,  united,  and  decided." 


SLAVERY    QUESTION    IN    THE    SENATE,    MARCH    4,    1850. 

*  *  *  «  But  will  the  North  agree  to  this  ?  It  is  for  her  to 
answer  this  question.  But  I  will  say  she  cannot  refuse,  if  she 
has  half  the  love  for  the  Union  which  she  professes  to  have, 
or  without  justly  exposing  herself  to  the  charge  that  her 
love  of  power  and  aggrandizement  is  far  greater  than  her  love 
of  the  Union.  At  all  events,  the  responsibility  of  saving  the 
Union  is  on  the  North  and  not  the  South.  The  South  cannot 
save  it  by  any  act  of  hers,  and  the  North  may  save  it  without 
any  sacrifice  whatever,  unless  to  do  justice  and  to  perform 
her  duties  under  the  Constitution  be  regarded  by  her  as  a 
sacrifice.  It  is  time,  senators,  that  there  should  be  an  open 
and  manly  avowal  on  all  sides  as  to  what  is  intended  to  be 
done.  If  the  question  is  not  now  settled,  it  is  uncertain 
whether  it  ever  can  hereafter  be ;  and  we,  as  the  representatives 
of  the  states  of  this  Union,  regarded  as  governments,  should 
come,  to  a  distinct  understanding  as  to  our  respective  views, 
in  order  to  ascertain  whether  the  great  questions  at  issue 
between  the  two  sections  can  be  settled  or  not.  If  you  who 
repre^nt  the  stronger  portion  cannot  agree  to  settle  them  on 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  9] 

the  broad  principle  of  justice  and  duty,  say  so,  and  let  the 
states  we  represent  agree  t<r  separate  and  part  in  peace. 

"  If  you  are  not  willing  we  should  part  in  peace,  tell  us  so, 
and  we  shall  know  what  to  do  when  you  require  the  question 
to  submission  or  resistance.  If  you  remain  silent,  you  then 
compel  us  to  infer  what  you  intend.  In  that  case,  California 
will  become  the  test  question.  If  you  admit  her  under  all  the 
difficulties  that  oppose  her  admission,  you  compel  us  to  infer 
that  you  intend  to  exclude  us  from  the  whole  of  the  acquired 
territories,  with  the  intention  of  destroying  irretrievably  the 
equilibrium  between  the  two  sections.  We  would  be  blind 
not  to  perceive  in  that  case,  that  your  real  objects  are  power 
and  aggrandizement,  and  infatuated  not  to  act  accordingly. 

"  I  have  now,  senators,  done  my  duty  in  expressing  my 
opinions  fully,  freely,  and  candidly,  on  this  solemn  occasion. 
In  doing  so,  I  have  been  governed  by  the  motives  which  have 
governed  me  in  all  the  stages  of  the  agitations  of  the  slavery 
question  since  its  commencement,  and  exerted  myself  to  arrest 
it,  with  the  intention  of  saving  the  Union,  if  it  could  be  done ; 
and  if  it  cannot,  to  save  the  section  where  it  has  pleased  Pro 
vidence  to  cast  my  lot  and  which  I  sincerely  believe  has  justice 
and  the  Constitution  on  its  side. 

"  Having  faithfully  done  my  duty  to  the  best  of  my  ability, 
both  in  the  Union  and  my  section,  throughout  the  whole  of 
this  agitation,  I  shall  have  the  consolation,  let  what  will  come, 
that  I  am  free  from  all  responsibility." 


92  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


LEWIS  CASS. 

HON.  LEWIS  CASS  is  a  gallant  general,  a  good  citizen,  ac 
eminent  statesman,  who  has  served  his  country  at  home  and 
abroad,  for  many  years,  with  honor  to  himself  and  credit  to 
his  country.  He  is  a  man  of  unimpeachable  purity  of  cha 
racter, — and  his  abstemious  habits  (unless  he  has  met  with  a 
recent  change)  deserve  the  commendation  of  all  good  men. 
He  is  pugnacious,  and  often  shakes  his  fist  in  the  face  of  John 
Bull ;  is  ambitious,  and  has  made  high  bids  for  the  presidency 
In  his  efforts  to  provoke  the  former  and  secure  the  latter,  he 
has  displayed  his  weakest  points. 

Lewis  Cass  is  a  great  man — physically  and  intellectually, 
There  is  nothing  trashy  or  inane  in  his  speeches ;  he  is  not 
subject  to  poetical  hysterics,  and  there  is  not  much  of  the  ma 
jestic  or  the  sublime  in  his  speeches.  It  is  seldom  that  great 
and  mighty  thoughts  leap  from  his  mouth,  as  "  Minerva  sprang 
from  the  brain  of  Jove ;"  but  he  is  plain,  practical,  philosophical, 
argumentative,  correct,  and  classical.  He  does  not  soar  like 
an  angel,  but  he  stands  erect  like  a  man.  He  has  a  well-' 
balanced,  ratiocinative  mind — deeply  experienced,  and  tho 
roughly  cultivated.  He  cannot,  like  Webster,  "  heap  Pelion 
upon  Ossa,"  until  his  opponent  is  overwhelmed  and  crushed  to 
the  dust, — but  he  digs  deeply,  until  the  victim  is  first  under 
mined,  and  finally  buried  under  his  own  premises. 

He  is  corpulent — almost  gross — and  has  a  dull  face ;  is  a 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  93 

perfect  gentleman  in  his  address,  excellent  company,  when  h« 
is  sufficiently  acquainted  to  "  unbend  the  brow,"  and  in  the 
convivial  circle  he  can  contribute  his  share  of  merriment.  He 
speaks  French  fluently,  and  is  familiar  with  other  languages. 
He  is  a  man  whom  his  party  delights  to  honor, — and  has  been 
governor,  representative,  foreign  minister,  is  now  senator,  an 
several  times  he  has  been  almost  President  of  the  United 
States.  He  lives  in  a  large,  plain,  democratic-looking  house, 
in  the  beautiful  city  of  Detroit.  He  is  now  ill  with  the  ague* 
— the  only  thing  that  can  shake  him.  Senator  Douglass  has 
recently  employed  an  artist  to  take  his  portrait.  Perhaps  he 
designs  to  hang  the  shadow  on  the  wall,  and  take  the  place 
of  the  substance  himself.  He  is  highly  esteemed  in  Michigan 
and  has  more  influence  there  than  any  other  man  in  the  state. 
Permit  me  to  record  a  joke,  which  has  been  exposed  to  the 
sun  and  air  so  long  it  has  become  dry,  if  not  stale.  "  Tell 
Hale,"  said  Cass,  "  that  he  is  a  Granite  goose.'  "  Tell  Cass," 
replied  Hale,  "  that  he  is  a  Wiohi-gander  /" 
Here  is  a  specimen  of  his  style : — 

SPEECH    OF   LEWIS   CASS,    ON  THE  DEATH   OF  DANIEL   WEBSTER, 
DELIVERED    IN    U.    S.    SENATE,    DECEMBER,    14,    1852. 

"MR.  PRESIDENT. — How  Are  The  Mighty  Fallen!  was 
the  pathetic  lamentation  when  the  leaders  of  Israel  were  struck 
down  in  the  midst  of  their  services  and  of  their  renown.  Well 
may  we  repeat  that  national  wail — How  are  the  mighty  fallen ! 

*  Since  recovered. 


94  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

• — when  the  impressive  dispensations  of  Providence  have  so  re 
cently  carried  mourning  to  the  hearts  of  the  American  people, 
by  summoning  from  life  to  death  three  of  their  eminent 
citizens,  who,  for  almost  half  a  century,  had  taken  part — 
and  prominently,  too — in  all  the  great  questions,  as  well  of 
peace  as  of  war,  which  agitated  and  divided  their  country. 
"  Full  indeed  they  were  of  days  and  of  honors,  for, 

"  '  The  hand  of  the  reaper 
Took  the  ears  that  were  heavy 

but  never  brighter  in  intellect,  purer  in  patriotism,  nor  more 
powerful  in  influence,  than  when  the  grave  closed  upon  their 
labors,  leaving  their  memory  and  then*  career  at  once  an  in 
centive  and  an  example  for  their  countrymen  in  that  long 
course  of  trial — but  I  trust,  of  freedom  <md  prosperity,  also — 
which  is  open  before  us.  Often  divided  in  life,  but  only  by 
honest  convictions  of  duty,  followed  in  a  spirit  of  generous 
emulation,  and  not  of  personal  opposition,  *,hey  are  now  united 
in  death,  and  we  may  appropiately  adopt,  npon  this  striking 
occasion,  the  beautiful  language  addressed  to  the  people  of 
England  by  one  of  her  most  gifted  sons,  when  they  were  called 
to  mourn,  as  we  are  called  now,  a  bereavement  which  spread 
sorrow — dismay  almost — through  the  nation,  and  under  cir 
cumstances  of  difficulty  and  of  danger  far  greater  than  any  wa 
can  now  reasonably  anticipate  in  the  progress  of  our  history : — 

'  Seek  not  for  those  a  separate  doom, 
Whom  Fate  made  brothers  in  the  tomb ;  ) 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  05 

But  search  the  land  of  living  naenj 
•     Where  shall  we  find  their  like  agfain  ?' 

"And,  to-day,  in  the  consideration  of  the  message  of  the 
Chief  Magistrate,  it  becomes  us  to  respond  to  his  communica 
tion — commending  itself,  as  it  does,  to  the  universal  sentiment 
of  the  country — of  the  death  of  the  last  lamented  statesman, 
as  a  national  misfortune.  This  mark  of  respect  and  regret^ 
was  due  alike  to  the  memory  of  the  dead,  and  to  the  feelings 
of  the  living.  And  I  have  listened  with  deep  emotion  to  the 
eloquent  testimonials  to  the  mental  power,  and  worth,  and 
services  of  the  departed  patriot,  which,  to-day  have  been 
heard  in  the  high  place,  and  will  be  heard  to-morrow,  and 
commended,  too,  by  the  American  people. 

"  The  voice  of  party  is  hushed  in  the  presence  of  such  a 
national  calamity,  and  the  grave  closes  upon  the  asperity  of 
political  contests,  when  it  closes  upon  those  who  have  taken 
part  in  them. 

"  And  well  may  we,  who  have  so  often  witnessed  his  labors 
and  his  triumphs ;  well  may  we,  here,  upon  this  theatre  of 
his  services  and  his  renown,,  recalling  the  efforts  of  his  mighty 
understanding,  and  the  admiration  which  always  followed 
its  exertion,  well  may  we  come  with  our  tribute  of  acknow 
ledgment  to  his  high  and  diversified  powers,  and  to  the 
influence  he  exercised  upon  his  auditors,  and,  in  fact,  upon  his 
country.  He  was,  indeed,  one  of  those  remarkable  men,  who 
stand  prominently  forward  upon  the  canvass  of  history, 
impressing  their  characteristics  upon  the  age  in  which 


90  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

live,  and  almost  making  it  their  own  by  the  force  of  their 
genius,  and  by  the  splendor  of  their  fame.  The  time  which 
elapsed  between  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  and 
our  own  day,  was  prolific  of  great  events,  and  of  distinguished 
men,  who  guided  or  were  guided  by  them,  far  beyond  any 
other  equal  period  in  the  history  of  human  society.  But,  in 
my  opinion,  even  this  favored  epoch,  has  produced  no  man 
possessing  a  more  massive  and  gigantic  intellect,  or  who 
exhibited  more  profound  powers  of  investigation,  in  the  great 
department  of  political  science  to  which  he  devoted  himself 
in  all  its  various  ramifications,  than  Daniel  Webstei . 
***** 

u  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  hear  him  upon  one  of  these 
>ccasions,  when,  in  this  very  hall,  filled  to  overflowing  with 
in  audience,  whose  rapt  attention  indicated  his  powers  and 
jheir  expectations,  he  entered  into  an  analysis  of  the  Constitu 
sion,  and  of  the  great  principles  of  our  political  organization, 
tvdth  a  vigor  of  argument,  a  force  of  illustration,  and  a  felicity 
Df  diction,  which  have  rendered  this  effort  of  his  mind  one  of 
the  proudest  monuments  of  American  genius,  and  one  of  the 
noblest  expositions  which  the  operations  of  our  government 
have  called  forth.  I  speak  of  its  general  effect,  without 
concurring  in  all  the  views  he  presented,  though  the  points  of 
difference  neither  impair  my  estimate  of  the  speaker,  nor  of 
the  power  he  displayed  in  this  elaborate  debate. 

"  The  judgment  of  his  contemporaries  upon  the  character 
of  his  eloquence,  will  be  confirmed  by  the  future  historian. 

"  He  grasped  the  questions  involved  in  the  subject  before 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  97 

him  with  a  rare  union  of  force  and  discrimination,  and  he 
presented  them  in  an  order  of  arrangement,  marked  at  once 
with  great  perspicuity  and  with  logical  acuteness,  so  that, 
when  he  arrived  at  his  conclusion,  he  seemed  to  reach  it  by  a 
process  of  established  propositions,  interwoven  with  the  hands 
of  a  master;  and  topics,  barren  of  attraction,  from  their 
nature,  were  rendered  interesting  by  illustrations  and  allusions, 
drawn  from  a  vast  storehouse  of  knowledge,  and  applied  with 
a  chastened  taste,  formed  upon  the  best  models  of  ancient 
and  of  modern  learning ;  and  to  these  eminent  qualifications 
vvas  added  an  uninterrupted  flow  of  rich  and  often  racy,  old- 
fashioned  English,  worthy  of  the  earlier  masters  of  the 
language,  whom  he  studied  and  admired. 

"  As  a  statesman  and  a  politician,  his  power  was  felt  and 
acknowledged  through  the  Republic,  and  all  bore  willing 
testimony  to  his  enlarged  views,  and  to  his  ardent  patriotism. 
And  he  acquired  an  European  reputation  by  the  state  papers 
lie  prepared  upon  various  questions  of  our  foreign  policy  ;  and 
one  of  these — his  refutation  and  exposure  of  an  absurd  and 
arrogant  pretension  of  Austria — is  distinguished  by  lofty  and 
generous  sentiments,  becoming  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and 
the  great  people  in  whose  name  he  spoke,  and  is  stamped 
with  a  vigor  and  research  not  less  honorable  in  the  exhibition 
than  conclusive  in  the  application ;  and  it  will  ever  take  rank 
in  the  history  of  diplomatic  intercourse  among  the  richest 
contributions  to  the  commentaries  upon  the  public  law  of  the 
world. 

"  And  in  internal  as  in  external  troubles  he  was  true,  and 
5 


98  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

tried,  and  faithful.  And  in  the  latest,  may  it  be  the  last,  as 
it  was  the  most  perilous,  crisis  of  our  country,  rejecting  all 
sectional  consideration,  and  exposing  himself  to  sectional 
denunciation,  he  stood  up  boldly,  proudly,  indeed,  and  with 
consummate  ability,  for  the  Constitutional  rights  of  another 
portion  of  the  Union,  fiercely  assailed  by  a  spirit  of  aggres 
sion,  as  incompatible  with  our  mutual  obligations  as  with  the 
duration  of  the  Confederation  itself.  In  that  dark  and  doubt 
ful  hour,  his  voice  was  heard  above  the  storm,  recalling  his 
countrymen  to  a  sense  of  their  dangers  and  their  duties,  and 
tempering  the  lessons  of  reproach  with  the  experience  of  age 
and  the  dictates  of  patriotism. 

"  He  who  heard  his  memorable  appeal  to  the  public  reason 
and  conscience,  made  in  this  crowded  chamber,  with  all  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  speaker,  and  almost  all  hearts  swayed  by  his 
words  of  wisdom  and  of  power,  will  sedulously  guard  its 
recollections  as  one  of  those  precious  incidents  which,  while 
they  constitute  the  poetry  of  history,  exert  a  permanent  and 
decisive  influence  upon  the  destiny  of  nations. 

"  And  our  deceased  colleague  added  the  kindlier  affections 
of  the  mind  ;  and  I  recall,  with  almost  painful  sensibility,  the 
associations  of  our  boyhood,  when  we  were  school-fellows 
together,  with  all  the  troubles  and  the  pleasures  which  belong 
to  that  relation  of  life,  in  its  narrow  world  of  preparation. 
He  rendered  himself  dear  by  his  disposition  and  deportment, 
and  exhibited  some  of  those  peculiar  characteristic  features 
which,  later  in  life,  made  him  the  ornament  of  the  social 
circle ;  and  when  study  and  knowledge  of  the  world  had 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  99 

ripened  his  faculties,  endowed  him  with  powers  of  conversa 
tion  I  'have  not  found  surpassed  in  my  intercourse  with 
society,  at  home  or  abroad.  His  conduct  and  bearing  at  that 
early  period  have  left  an  enduring  impression  upon  my 
memory  of  mental  traits,  which  his  subsequent  course  in  life, 
developed  and  confirmed.  And  the  commanding  position  and 
ascendency  of  the  man  were  foreshadowed  by  the  standing 
and  influence  of  the  boy  among  the  comrades  who  sur 
rounded  him. 

"  Fifty  years  ago,  we  parted — he  to  prepare  for  his  splendid 
career  in  the  good  old  land  of  our  ancestors,  and  I  to  encoun 
ter  the  rough  toils  and  trials  of  life,  in  the  great  forest  of  the 
West.  But  ere  long  the  report  of  his  words  and  his  deeds 
penetrated  those  recesses  where  human  industry  was  pain 
fully  but  successfully  contending  with  the  obstacles  of 
Nature,  and  I  found  that  my  early  companion  was  assuming 
a  position  which  confirmed  my  previous  anticipations,  and 
which  could  only  be  attained  by  the  rare  faculties  with  which 
he  was  gifted.  Since  then  he  has  gone  on,  irradiating  his 
path  with  the  splendor  of  his  exertions,  till  the  whole 
hemisphere  was  bright  with  his  glory,  and  never  brighter 
than  when  he  went  down  in  the  west,  without  a  cloud  to 
obscure  his  lustre,  calm,  clear,  and  glorious.  Fortunate  in  life, 
he  was  not  less  fortunate  in  death,  for  he  died  with  his  fame 
undiminished,  his  faculties  unbroken,  and  his  usefulness  unim 
paired;  surrounded  by  weeping  friends,  and  regarded  with 
anxious  solicitude  by  a  grateful  country,  to  whom  the  messen 
ger,  that  mocks  at  time  and  space,  told  from  hour  to  hour  the 


100  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

progress  of  his  disorder,  and  the  approach  of  his  fate.  And 
beyond  all  this,  he  died  in  the  faith  of  a  Christian,  humble, 
but  hopeful,  adding  another  to  the  roll  of  eminent  men  who 
have  searched  the  Gospel  of  Jesus,  and  have  found  it  the 
word  and  the  will  of  God,  given  to  direct  us  while  here,  and 
to  sustain  us  in  that  hour  of  trial,  when  the  things  of  this 
world  are  passing  away,  and  the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death  is  opening  before  us. 

"  How  are  the  Mighty  Fallen !  we  may  yet  exclaim, 
when  reft  of  our  greatest  and  wisest ;  but  they  fall  to  rise 
again  from  death  to  life,  when  such  quickening  faith  in  the 
mercy  of  God,  and  in  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Redeemer  comes  to 
shed  upon  them  its  happy  influence,  on  this  side  of  the  grave 
and  beyond  it." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  10] 


CHARLES  C.  BURLEIGH. 

CHARLES  C.  BURLEIGH,  the  eccentric  and  eloquent  aboli 
tionist,  is  brother  to  William  H.  and  George  Burleigh,  the 
celebrated  poets.  He  is  an  out  and  out  "come-outer" — a 
non-compromising  radical — a  splendid  scholar — an  oft-hand 
orator.  He  is  not  so  genial  as  Garrison — but  has  more  force 
— not  so  bitter  as  Pillsbury,  but  his  severity  has  a  keener 
edge  and  cuts  deeper — less  eloquent  than  Phillips,  but  more 
logical  than  he — not  so  blunt  as  Foster,  but,  like  him,  he  is  a 
plain-dealer.  His  best  thoughts  are  struck  out  at  a  heat,  and 
come  to  the  heart  winged  with  words  of  fire.  There  is 
thunder  and  lightning  in  his  logic — and  the  concussion,  as 
well  as  the  conclusion,  are  irresistible.  His  arguments  are 
not  betinselled  with  gauze  and  silver  spangles ;  it  is  pure  gold 
that  glitters  in  his  speeches.  You  look  in  vain  for  the  double 
refined  essence  of  nonsense  and  affectation,  with  which  literary 
dandies  perfume  their  productions.  There  is  a  smell  of  gun 
powder  in  the  atmosphere,  and  a  mighty  fluttering  of  game, 
when  he  levels  his  gun  at  a  multitude.  His  arguments  are 
forcible — his  appeals  pathetic — his  language  classical.  When 
he  follows  an  opponent  in  debate,  he  begins  at  the  begin 
ning,  pursues  his  meanderings,  and  sweeps  away  his  sophistry, 
as  gossamer  is  swept  by  the  wind.  He  may  be  seen  selling 


102  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

'books*  at  -tfai'  door  of  the  building  where  the  convention  ia 
held,  one  minute,  and  the  next  minute  he  may  be  seen  on  the 
platform,  addressing  an  audience.  Unmoved  by  the  cat-calls 
in  the  gallery,  or  the  scribbling  of  the  reporters  at  his  elbow, 
he  speaks  right  on,  as  though,  like  the  prophet  Ezekiel,  he 
had  swallowed  the  parchment  roll.  There  is  no  flaw  in  his 
unpremeditated  addresses — you  cannot  discover  any  welding 
marks.  I  do  not  set  him  up  "  too  steep,"  when  I  venture  the 
assertion,  that  his  addresses  found  in  the  abolition  papers,  will 
compare  favorably  with  the  best  speeches  made  in  the  Senate 
Chamber  at  Washington.  Notwithstanding  his  superior 
talents  and  his  surpassing  power  of  language,  he  is  a  wild 
man,  who  ought  to  be  caught  and  shaved,  for  his  beard  stands, 
or  rather  hangs,  in  the  way  of  his  usefulness.  Unlike  Samson, 
his  weakness  is  in  his  hair,  and  he  could  better  slay  the  Philis 
tines  and  shake  the  pillars  of  the  temple,  if  he  would  permit 
some  one  to  crop  off  his  locks.  The  first  time  the  writer  saw 
him,  he  looked  like  a  madman  just  out  of  Bedlam — but  he 
spoke  like  an  Apostle  whose  lips  had  been  touched  with  a 
live  coal  from  the  altar  of  inspiration.  I  have  seen  him 
frequently  since  that  time,  and  think  that  he  looks  better  than 
he  formerly  did — as  for  his  speaking,  his  last  effort  is  always 
the  best. 

Mr.  Burleigh  is  a  tall,  thin  man,  with  light  eyes  that  glow 
and  sparkle  when  he  speaks.  He  wears  a  golden  beard,  long 
enough  to  please  the  taste  of  the  most  fastidious  Nazarin« ; 
permits  the  hair  on  his  head  to  grow  long,  parts  it  in  the 
middle,  and  it  rolls  in  auburn  ringlets  over  his  narrow 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  103 

shoulders ;  dresses  plainly,  and  gives  abundant  proof  that 
dame  Fashion  seldom  or  never  replenishes  his  wardrobe.  Is 
somewhat  inclined  to  Quakerism — although  his  creed  does 
not  appear  in  the  brim  of  his  beaver  or  the  cut  of  his  coat. 
His  character  is  irreproachable.  He  has  labored  untiringly 
for  the  welfare  of  humanity  for  many  years. 


MJl  CKATON    SKETCHES,    AND 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  is  one  of  the  boldest  thinkers  and 
bravest  speakers  in  America.  He  not  only  wages  war  with 
unpopular  vices,  but  has  the  courage  to  seize  national  evils 
by  the  throat;  the  mealy-mouthed,  Janus-faced  politician, 
while  fishing  for  votes  and  catching  suckers  in  the  alehouse, 
he  holds  up  to  everlasting  indignation  and  contempt;  the 
gambler,  who  in  the  great  game  of  life  "  stakes  his  soul  and 
lets  the  devil  win  it ;"  the  lecherous  libertine,  whose  look  is 
lust,  whose  touch  is  pollution ;  the  miser,  who  cheats  the  pak 
sewing  girl,  and  defrauds  his  apprentice ;  the  drunkard ;  the 
death-dealer ;  the  oppressor,  are  all  scourged  by  him ;  and 
every  word  he  speaks  is  a  blow ;  every  blow  inflicts  a  wound. 
Were  he  more  ambitious  than  religious,  he  might  employ 
the  irreverent  language  of  Pope,  and  say, 

"  Yes,  I  am  proud  to  see 
Men  not  afraid  of  God,  afraid  of  me." 

Mr.  Beecher  has  studied  the  great  folio  of  nature,  and  he 
can  read  men,  whether  they  be  bound  in  boards,  sheep,  or  calf. 
He  seems  to  be  acquainted  with  the  haunts  and  the  habits, 
the  slang  and  the  signs  of  the  great  army  of  sinners.  He 


-o 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  105 

never  was  a  drunkard,  but  he  speaks  like  one  fresh  from  the 
spirit  land ;  he  never  was  a  gambler,  yet  he  speaks  about 
high,  low,  jack,  and  the  game,  as  though  he  had  studied  tho 
pack  as  well  as  THE  BOOK  ;  he  never  was  a  dandy,  but  he 
knows  "  how  such  die  of  a  rose  in  aromatic  pain ;"  he  never 
was  a  demagogue,  yet  he  knows  how  to  unmask  the.  dema 
gogue.  Mr.  Beecher's  invaluable  lectures  to  young  men  com 
prise  one  of  the  richest  galleries  of  word-painting  to  be  found 
in  the  world  of  literature.  Now  he  shows  us  an  obese,  greasy, 
wheezing,  broken-down,  political  hack ;  then  a  ripe,  rosy, 
plump,  luscious  rascal,  "  whose  spotted  hide  covers  a  tiger ;" 
here  we  see  a  lank,  lean  miser,  who  would  fling  his  last  penny 
into  his  chest,  sit  upon  the  lid  and  swallow  the  key,  for  fear  he 
might  lose  it ;  there  we  see  the  drunkard,  with  his  floating 
eyes  and  fiery  face,  &c.,  &c. 

Mr.  Beecher  has  a  style  of  his  own ;  it  is  more  figurative 
than  argumentative,  more  popular  than  classical.  He  has  a 
fervid  imagination,  and  although  he  seldom  soars  to  the  sub 
lime,  the  beautiful  is  quite  accessible  to  him ;  his  humor  is 
like  a  spirited  colt — difficult  to  ride  and  hard  at  the  mouth, 
sheering  from  the  road  frequently  at  the  sight  of  its  own  sha 
dow.  He 'has  great  power  of  origination,  and  the  skill  to 
Beecherize  what  he  borrows  until  it  becomes  his  own.  His 
mind  is  not  a  mint  where  every  piece  of  metal  bears  the  im 
pression  of  a  die,  but  a  mine  where  gold  can  be  obtained  by 
the  ingot ;  and  he  is  a  fool,  and  not  an  alchymist,  who  rejects 
it  because  there  is  some  dross  mixed  with  the  precious  ore. 

He  is  a  popular,  but  not  an  eloquent  speaker ;  his  matter  is 
5* 


10G  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

more  entertaining  than  his  manner.  He  is  graphic,  thrilling, 
earnest,  forcible,  but  the  burden  of  his  reputation  seems  not  to 
encumber  him.  When  he  goes  from  his  closet  to  his  pulpit, 
he  has  power  over  the  minds  of  his  hearers ;  his  sermons 
peninsulate  the  preacher  with  the  congregation. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  has  more  courage  than  most  men 
of  his  cloth.  While  some  of  his  contemporaries  made  an 
auction  block  of  the  pulpit,  and  sold  the  Saviour  in  the  person 
of  the  slave,  for  a  few  pieces  of  silver,  or  for  fear  of  offending 
the  "  silver  greys,"  he  uncringingly  denounced  the  damnable 
deed,  and  employed  his  prolific  pen  and  tongue  in  defending 
the  down-trodden  and  oppressed.  His  sermons  and  editorials 
are  not  still-born ;  they  have  open  eyes  and  throbbing  hearts, 
and  they  will  continue  to  live  and  speak  when  the  wicked 
efforts  of  those  who  betray  humanity  will  be  forgotten ;  or  if 
remembered,  remembered  with  scorn. 

Mr.  Beecher  is  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  of  common 
size  and  stature ;  has  brown  hair,  blue  eyes,  pale  complexion ; 
a  noble  head,  and  thoughtful  face.  He  puts  on  no  awkward 
airs  of  assumed  dignity,  but  is  sociable,  pleasant,  and  commu 
nicative.  He  is  not  only  admired,  but  loved  by  the  people  of 
his  charge.  I  will  add  to  this  imperfect  and  hasty  sketch 
the  words  of  Hood : — 

"Thrice  blessed  is  the  man  with  whom 
The  gracious  prodigality  of  nature — 
The  balm,  the  bliss,  the  beauty,  and  the  bloom, 
The  beauteous  Providence  in  every  feature — 
Recall  the  good  Creator  to  his  creature ; 
Making  all  earth  a  fane,  all  heaven  its  dome  1" 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  107 

The  following  extracts  will  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  hia 

style '. — 

"  Our  citizens  have  been  lynched  for  the  suspicion  of  hold 
ing  free  sentiments ;  letters  and  papers  have  been  refused  a 
channel  in  the  national  mail ;  it  has  been  freely  said,  and  it 
was  no  vain  threat,  that  a  lamp-post  or  tree  should  be  that 
man's  rostrum  who  dared  to  own  abolitionism  in  Southern 
territory ;  free  colored  citizens  have  been  kidnapped,  carried 
into  hopeless  slavery  from  our  midst;  our  ships  and  boats  could 
not  carry  colored  cooks,  stewards,  or  sailors,  without  having 
their  service  withheld  from  them ;  our  whole  free  colored 
population  are  denied  the  right  of  travel  and  residence  in  slave 
States,  which  the  Constitution  guaranties  to  all  citizens ;  they 
are  arrested  if  found,  and  sold,  if  proved  free,  to  pay  jail  fees. 

"When  our  States,  justly  incensed  at  high  outrages  perpe 
trated  against  citizens  and  commerce,  protested,  they  were 
answered  with  scorn  and  defiance.  When,  to  avoid  public 
scandal,  and  as  the  most  direct  and  peaceable  method,  they 
sent  venerable  men  to  defend  our  citizens  in  the  courts  of  slave 
States,  their  lives  were  threatened,  innocent  females  in  their 
family  insulted,  and  all  of  them  driven  headlong  home  again. 
****** 

"  When  such  men  as  Henry  Clay,  Lewis  Cass,  and  Daniel 
Webster  stand  up  without  a  blush  to  declare  that  Northern 
citizens  are  bound  to  provide  for  catching  and  restoring  fugi 
tive  slaves,  they  separate  themselves  from  the  sympathy  of 
nine  out  of  every  ten  true  men  in  the  North  and  West.  Does 
Mr.  Webster  believe  that  he  is  the  Exponent  of  Massachusetts, 


108  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

of  New  England,  in  this  monstrous  inhumanity  ?  Pass  enact 
ments  enough  to  fill  all  the  archives  of  the  Senate,  and  youi 
slave-catcher  sliall  not  budge  an  inch  faster  or  farther  than  he 
now  does  in  the  North.  Every  village  will  spurn  him.  Every 
yeoman  along  the  valleys  will  run  the  slave  and  trip  the 
shameless  hunter.  Bread  and  shelter,  protection  and  direc 
tion  will  be  the  slave's  portion  north  of  Mason  and  Dixon's 
line,  with  more  certainty  and  effect  every  year  that  elapses, 
until  the  day  of  Emancipation.  It  will  be  so,  not  from  any 
special  liking  to  the  blacks,  for  they  are  not  favorites ;  not 
from  any  hostility  to  the  South,  for  on  any  other  question 
than  slavery  the  South  will  find  no  truer  friends  than  in  the 
North.  It  will  be  so,  because,  since  the  world  began,  the 
sympathies  of  common  men  have  been  with  tlie  weak  and 
oppressed.  In  that  sympathy,  they  have  conformed  to  the 
fundamental  law  of  humanity  which  lies  deeper  in  the  con 
sciousness  of  honest  men,  than  any  national  compact  can  ever 
go.  Man  cannot  plant  parchments  as  deep  as  God  plants 
principles.  The  Senate  of  the  United  States  is  august ;  and 
such  men  as  lead  her  counsels  are  men  of  might.  But  no 
man,  and  no  senate  of  men,  when  once  the  eyes  of  a  commu 
nity  are  open  to  a  question  of  humanity  can  reason  and  enact 
them  back  again  to  a  state  of  indifference,  and  still  less  can 
they  enlist  them  along  with  the  remorseless  hunters  of  human 
ilesh.  And  of  all  the  very  men  who  will  justify  Mr.  Webster's 
adhesion  to  the  South,  if  a  trembling  woman,  far  spent  with 
travel  and  want,  holding  her  babe  to  her  bare  bosom,  true  ir 
her  utmost  misery  to  motherhood,  should  timidly  beg  a  morse 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  109 

of  bread,  a  place  to  sleep,  or  a  night's  hiding-place  from  a  swift 
pursuer4 — is  there  one  of  them  all  who  would  hesitate  what  to 
do  ?  Is  there  a  New  England  village  that  would  not  vomit 
out  the  wretch  that  should  dare  harm  the  slave  mother? 
There  are  thousands  of  merchants  that  will  say  Mr.  Webster 
is  right,  who  the  next  moment  will  give  a  fugitive  slave  a 
dollar  to  speed  on  with !  There  are  thousands  who  will  say 
we  ought  to  stick  to  the  Constitution,  who,  when  the  caso 
comes,  would  sooner  cut  their  right  hand  off  than  be  party 
to  a  slave's  recovery. 

"  We  solemnly  appeal  to  Christians  of  every  name,  to  all 
sober  and  humane  men,  un wrenched  by  party  feelings,  to  all 
that  love  man,  to  behold  and  ponder  this  iniquity  which  is 
done  among  us  !  Shall  an  army  of  wretched  victims,  without 
a  crime,  unconvicted  of  wrong,  pursuing  honest  occupations, 
be  sent  back  to  a  loathed  and  detestable  slavery  ?  Here  is  no 
*  abstract '  question.  We  ask  you,  shall  men  now  free — shall 
members  of  the  Church — shall  children  from  the  school — 
shall  even  ministers  of  the  Gospel — be  seized,  ironed,  s,nd  in 
two  hours  be  on  the  road  to  a  servitude  to  them  worse  than 
death  ? 

"  For  our  own  selves,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  what  every 
man  who  has  a  spark  of  manhood  in  him  will  say  wHh  us, 
that  no  force  should  bring  us  into  such  horrible  bondage. 
Before  we  would  yield  ourselves  to  go  away  to  linger  and 
long  for  death  through  burning  years  of  injustice,  we  would 
die  a  thousand  deaths.  Every  house  should  be  our  fortress ; 
and  when  fortress  and  refuge  failed  us,  then  our  pursuers 


110  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

should  release  our  souls  to  the  hands  of  God  who  gave  them, 
before  they  should  degrade  them  by  a  living  slavery  !  Who 
shall  deny  these  feelings  and  such  refuge  to  a  black  man  ? 

"With  such  solemn  convictions,  no  law,  impious,  infidel 
to  God  and  humanity,  shall  have  respect  or  observance  at  our 
hands.  We  desire  no  collision  with  it.  We  shall  not  rashly 
dash  upon  it.  We  shall  not  attempt  a  rescue,  nor  interrupt 
the  officers,  if  they  do  not  interrupt  us.  We  prefer  to  labor 
peaceably  for  its  early  repeal,  meanwhile  saving  from  its  mer 
ciless  jaws  as  many  victims  as  we  can.  But  in  those  provi 
sions  which  respect  aid  to  fugitives,  may  God  do  so  to  us,  yea 
and  more  also,  if  we  do  not  spurn  it  as  we  would  any  other 
mandate  of  Satan.  If  in  God's  Providence,  fugitives  ask  bread 
or  shelter,  raiment  or  conveyance,  at  our  hands,  my  own  chil 
dren  shall  lack  bread  before  they ;  my  own  flesh  shall  sting 
with  cold  ere  they  shall  lack  raiment.  I  will  both  shelter 
them,  conceal  them,  or  speed  their  flight ;  and  wrhile  under 
my  shelter  or  under  my  convoy,  they  shall  be  to  me  as  my 
own  flesh  and  blood ;  and  whatever  defence  I  would  put  forth 
for  my  own  children,  that  shall  these  poor,  despised,  and  per 
secuted  creatures  have  in  my  house  or  upon  the  road.  The 
man  who  shall  betray  a  fellow  creature  to  bondage,  who  shall 
obey  this  law  to  the  peril  of  his  soul,  and  to  the  loss  of  his 
manhood,  were  he  brother,  son,  or  father,  shall  never  pollute 
my  hand  with  the  grasp  of  hideous  friendship,  or  cast  his 
swarthy  shadow  across  my  threshold  !  For  such  service  to 
those  whose  helplessness  and  poverty  make  them  peculiarly 
God's  children,  I  shall  cheerfully  take  the  pains  and  penalties 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  1  1  1 

of  this  Bill.     Bonds  and  fines  shall  be  honors  ;  imprisonment 
and  suffering  will  be  passports  to  fame  not  long  to  linger!" 

EXTRACTS  FROM  H.  W.  BEECHER's  SPEECH  AT  THE  GREAT 
KOSSUTH  DINNER. 

"  Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen,  I  am  not  accustomed  to 
making  speeches  on  such  an  occasion  as  this,  and  yet  I  did 
not  feel  at  liberty  to  decline.  I  am  sure  that  no  sentiment 
could  have  been  given  to  me  to  speak  to,  which  I  more  reli 
giously  believe.  Since  I  can  remember  anything,  I  remember 
my  aged  father  let  neither  morning  nor  evening  fail,  that  he 
aid  not  supplicate  God  to  send  abroad  the  light  of  civil  and 
religious  liberty.  And  he  believed  what  he  prayed  ;  and  if  I 
had  not,  I  should  not  have  been  what  I  am  now.  Yes,  I  so 
thoroughly  believe  in  it,  that  it  is  to  me  a  part  of  my  reli 
gion.  In  addressing  you  to-night,  I  cannot  speak  as  though 
it  were  an  honor  merely  to  be  a  supplicant  to  the  cause  to 
which  I  am  designated,  but  as  if  you  were  standing  before  the 
altar  of  God,  and  I  were  put  there  as  a  man  to  teach  you 
duty.  [Applause.]  Now,  gentlemen,  civil  and  religious  lib 
erty  is  a  thing  that  governments  may  declare  and  recognise, 
but  which  governments  never  make,  any  more  than  govern 
ments  make  a  man.  God  made  a  man,  and  He  never  made 
one  without  the  hope  of  liberty  in  him ;  and  if  there  be  a 
man  on  this  earth  that  has  not  got  that,  then  he  ain't  made  ! 
[^Great  laughter  and  applause.]  And  because  this  is  a  part 
of  God's  '  talents '  let  to  us,  and  let  on  interest,  and  which  we 
are  bound,  as  receiving  it  from  Him,  to  trade  well  upon. 


112  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

therefore  it  is  that  every  government  and  every  nation  that 
has  citizens  who  are  worthy  to  be  called  men,  and  are  worthy 
to  call  their  mothers  '  Mother,' — therefore  it  is  that  every  such 
nation  is  perpetually  tending  towards  liberty — no  matter  un 
der  what  oppressions — as  a  seed  put  under  a  rock,  or  under  a 
board,  >r  in  the  dark  shadow  of  a  wall,  yet,  so  it  has  vitality, 
will  attempt  to  grow,  will  seek  the  water,  send  its  root  down 
to  it,  and  then  seek  out  where  light  and  heat  may  be  found 
So,  put  a  man  under  what  superincumbent  oppression  you 
please,  there  always  will  be  reaching  out  a  root  that  will  have 
Liberty — there  always  will  be  reaching  out  a  stem  for  tho 
light  of  God's  precious  civil  and  religious  liberty  !  [Ap 
plause.]  But,  gentlemen,  it  is  an  easy  thing  for  us  to  speak 
about  civil  and  religious  Liberty.  It  is  easy  for  us  who  have 
it,  to  praise  it.  Oh  !  methinks  we  praise  it,  as  I  can  imagine 
an  old  curmudgeon,  to  whom  Providence  has  given  gold,  and 
who  will  not  give  it  to  the  Hungarians — as  I  would  give  it, 
if  I  had  it.  And  the  first  time  I  ever  envied  such  a  man  was 
lately.  But  I  can  imagine  him  dressed  in  velvet,  with  plush 
on  which  to  rest  his  foot,  flushed  with  wine,  and  surrounded 
with  luxurious  appliances,  and  fat  and  glowing  in  his  abun 
dance,  this  old  usurer  take  out  his  gold,  and  talk  and  talk  over 
and  over  about  the  benefits  of  life,  while  the  beggars  are  on  the 
sidewalk  by  his  door,  and  get  neither  a  crumb  from  his  table 
nor  a  morsel  of  charity.  I  ask,  what  is  the  use  of  money  tc 
such  a  creature  as  that,  except  to  damn  him  ?  [Laughter  and 
applause.]  So  it  is  with  every  man  who  is  talking,  talking 
continually  about  civil  and  religious  liberty.  Now,  I  want  tc 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  113 

know  what  they  do  with  civil  and  religious  liberty.  [Cheers.] 
*  * '  *  *  ^or  ^o  we  interfere  with  nations  by  our 
example  only.  We  are  interfering  by  the  propagation  of  oui 
ideas.  We  do  propagate  our  ideas  ;  we  do  it  on  purpose ; 
not  by  our  literature  only,  but  by  our  diplomacy,  bad  as  our 
diplomacy  is  (and  few  think  worse  of  it  than  I),  nevertheless 
it  is  not  possible  for  diplomacy  to  go  out  of  the  United  States 
without  conveying,  more  or  less,  the  impression  of  Liberty, 
any  more  than  for  a  person  to  go  out  of  a  room  where  odors 
are  and  not  carry  some  of  the  perfume  in  his  garments.  It  is 
not  possible  to  convey  messages,  to  write  them  on  paper,  that 
are  not  more  or  less  testimonials  to  the  nations  of  the  world. 
This  is  not  all.  There  is  a  worse  conspiracy  than  that.  Why 
there  are  revolutionary  societies  on  this  continent,  who  have 
their  emissaries  in  France,  Italy  and  Prussia,  and  almost 
every  part  of  the  European  continent.  There  is  the  Bible  So 
ciety,  one  of  the  most  revolutionary  societies  on  the  globe. 
There  is  the  Foreign  Missionary  Society.  Do  not  think  I 
mean  to  play  on  words.  The  sum  total  of  all  Revolutions 
is  contained  in  the  New  Testament.  It  contains  the  greatest 
magazine  of  bomb-shells,  torpedoes  and  rockets,  and  other  de 
vastating  elements  of  all  other  books  put  together ;  and  that 
man  that  does  send  the  Bible,  and  a  Protestant  Minister  tc 
preach  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  (it  is  no  figure  of  speech  to 
say  it),  is  just  as  surely  preparing  them  for  civil  and  religious 
liberty,  as  the  sun  is  preparing  the  tree  for  its  blossoms  and 
fruits,  when  in  the  spring  it  begins  to  warm  the  roots,  and 
swell  the  buds  and  bring  them  out. 


114  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

"  Now,  having  interfered  thus  far,  shall  we  begin  to  talk 
about  backing  out,  when  there  is  required  a  little  pluck — as  the 
English  call  it  ?  [Cheers.]  So  long  as  it  is  safe,  you  can 
fight,  but  the  moment  it  is  not  quite  so  safe,  you  are  a  little 
addicted  to  peace  principles.  [Laughter.]  So  long  as  it 
is  safe,  you  are  willing  to  send  your  missionaries,  and  all  our 
pious  men  may  read  to  our  audiences,  and  our  most  conserva 
tive  men  may  wipe  their  eyes  and  cry,  "  Blessed  be  God  !" 
[Loud  cheering.]  Gentlemen,  I'm  a  little  like  a  river,  so  that  if 
you  stop  me  by  cheers,  it  dams  me  up,  and  I  don't  want  to  be 
damned  !  [Great  laughter.]  Therefore  I  hope  you  will  not 
cheer.  [Cries  of  '  go  on,'  '  go  on.']  I  say  that  while  we  re-, 
joice — even  the  most  conservative  of  us — in  all  this  early  in 
terference,  which  I  believe  God  directs  and  prospers,  will  you 
shrink  when  the  tug  of  war  appears  ?  Have  not  the  husband 
men  gone  out  and  sown  the  seed  broadcast,  and  has  not 
the  seed  sprung  up  and  flourished,  and  grown  green,  and  from 
green  to  yellow,  and  will  you  not  now  come  and  aid  to  reap  the 
harvest?  If  men  are  ashamed  to  reap  they  should  be  ashamed 
to  sow.  Either  stop  praying  *  thy  Kingdom  come,'  or  else 
when  it  does  come,  recognise  it.  [Laughter  and  cheers.] 
For  my  own  part,  gentlemen,  I  have  no  sympathy  whatever 
with  those  who  believe  that  it  is  our  chief  duty  to  talk  bravely, 
but  take  good  care  when  the  time  comes  not  to  do  anything. 

"I  have  but  a  word  more  to  say.  [Cries  of  'go  on,'  'go  on.'] 
It  seems  to  me  that  if  the  history  of  the  world  had  been  ran 
sacked  to  find  an  occasion  where  we  might,  with  propriety, 
bring  our  doctrines  to  the  test,  no  better  time  could  be  found 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  115 

than  that  which  is  now  cooie.  I  think  that  above  all  lands 
Hungary  <is  the  land,  and  above  all  other  men,  Louis  Kossuth 
is  the  man.  Stop  one  moment  and  think  of  Hungary,  with 
more  than  twelve  millions  of  united  people  standing  centrally 
almost  between  occidental  Europe  and  Asia,  standing  in  a  posi 
tion,  fitted  above  all  others,  to  make  it  the  land  of  liberty  for  all 
the  world.  It  seems  as  if  God  for  a  long  while  had  had  his  eye 
upon  Hungary,  and  he  has  given  her  what  he  has  not  given 
to  Italy  or  France.  He  has  given  her  sound  families,  purity 
of  religion,  and  institutions  which  prepare  the  people  for  self- 
government.  They  are  all  ready — there  never  was  a  nation 
so  well  prepared.  If  we  begin  in  France,  many,  many  as  are 
her  excellencies,  there  is  a  primary  work  to  be  done  in  the 
education  of  the  lower  classes  of  the  people.  But  in  Hungary, 
of  all  other  lands  over  which  God  looks,  he  says  to  us : — > 
4  Take  possession  of  that  land  in  the  name  of  Liberty!'  " 


11  fi  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


ABBOTT  LAWRENCE. 

THE  first  time  the  writer  saw  ABBOTT  LAWRENCE,  the  great 
cotton-lord,  was  in  Brattle  Square  church.  He  was  standing 
in  the  broad  aisle,  conversing  with  a  negro,  who  is  a  brother 
member  of  the  same  religious  society  to  which  the  subject  of 
this  sketch  belongs.  While  the  beauty  and  fashion,  the 
wealth  and  wisdom,  the  virtue  and  piety  of  that  church  were 
pressing  homewards,  the  distinguished  man  who  is  now  at  the 
Court  of  St  James,  was  holding  a  brief  tete-a-tete  with  his 
black  brother,  and  I  had  a  fine  opportunity  to  take  his 
portrait. 

Mr.  Lawrence  is  a  tall,  portly,  noble  and  dignified-looking 
man,  about  sixty  years  of  age.  His  head  is  bald,  and  shines 
as  though  it  came  fresh  from  the  hands  of  a  skilful  varnisher 
and  polisher ;  and  it  is  quite  evident  that  the  shining  qualities 
of  the  head  are  not  confined  to  the  exterior  of  the  skull,  but 
seem  rather  to  result  from  something  brilliant  within.  He 
has  a  calm,  pleasant  face,  indicating,  to  the  minutest  line,  that 
he  is  not  afraid  to  see  the  sheriff  or  the  clamorous  creditor. 
He  wore,  on  this  occasion,  a  thin  cravat,  light  vest  and  a  dress 
coat  (I  think)  of  olive  green. 

I  saw  him  again  at  a  "  mass  meeting  "  in  Faneuil  Hall,  the 
very  time  when  he  said  his  breeches-pocket  contained  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  117 

evidence  that  Gen.  Taylor  was  a  Whig !  The  old  "  Cradle  of 
Liberty  "  was  packed  with  people.  It  was  no  easy  task  foi 
those  who  came  late  to  gain  admittance,  but,  being  accustomed 
to  crowds,  and  determined  to  see  and  hear  the  speakers,  I 
pushed  my  way  through  to  the  front  gallery,  where  I  obtained 
a  seat  and  a  view  of  the  platform.  Our  subject  was  in  the 
chair,  and  in  more  senses  than  one  he  filled  it  well.  He  was 
surrounded  by  men  well  known  to  fame.  Some  of  them 
were  acquainted  with  him  when  he  was  a  poor,  awkward 
boy,  employed  as  a  clerk  in  a  store  in  the  city  of  Boston. 
One  of  them  told  the  writer  that  when  Mr.  Lawrence  left  his 
native  town  of  Groton,  he  came  to  the  capital  of  Massachu 
setts  with  a  pair  of  buckskin  gloves  on  his  hands.  It  was 
during  the  Summer  season,  and  some  of  the  city  gents 
laughed  at  the  verdancy  of  the  country  lad.  That  he  after 
wards  pulled  off  his  gloves,  the  "  cities  of  spindles  "  he  has 
erected,  bear  the  most  unequivocal  testimony. 

At  the  proper  time  he  arose  and  made  a  speech.  It  con 
tained  humor,  pathos,  and  logic  enough  to  be  interesting.  He 
is  more  of  a  business  than  a  literary  man  ;  a  better  financier 
than  statesman,  and  would  never  have  been  more  than  a 
moderate  statesman  if  he  had  not  been  a  first-rate  financier. 
He  is  indebted  to  his  brains  for  his  money,  and  to  his  mone}'- 
for  his  honors.  He  went  through  the  mill  first,  then 
graduated,  at  the  counting-house,  and  recently  journeyed  to 
London  as  minister-plenipotentiary. 

Mr.  Lawrence  is  a  magnificent  man.  He  does  everything 
by  wholesale  and  nothing  ic  the  retail  line.  Not  satisfied 


118  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

with  the  murmuring  of  a  single  mill,  he  must  make  every  idle 
stream  turn  a  crank  for  him.  Look  at  Lowell  and  Lawrence, 
the  cities  erected  by  his  enterprise  !  He  would  not  be  Mayor 
of  Boston,  but  he  would  like  to  be  President  of  the  United 
States ;  is  liberal  to  the  poor,  though  he  will  not  allow  his 
funds  to  filter  through  his  own  hands  to  the  needy.  He 
prefers  giving  a  large  sum  when  he  gives  anything,  but  it 
must  be  distributed  by  those  who  are  willing  to  come  in  con 
tact  with  the  sorrowing  and  distressed. 

Mr.  Lawrence  is  a  practical  business  man,  of  pleasing 
manners  and  polite  address.  Although  he  has  devoted  a 
large  portion  of  his  life  to  business,  he  is  familiar  with  the 
modern  history  of  nations,  and  knows  enough  respecting  tho 
etiquette  of  courts  and  the  usages  of  diplomacy  to  fill  the  sta 
tion  he  occupies  with  credit  to  himself  and  honor  to  his 
country. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  119 


RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON  is  one  of  the  most  erratic  and 
capricious  men  in  America.  Some  of  the  wiseacres  who  at 
first  declared  him  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  have  long  since  made  the 
discovery  that  he  is  a  fiery  comet  of  the  first  magnitude, 
sweeping  through  the  heavens,  and  eclipsing  the  glory  of 
some  of  the  fixed  stars  in  our  literary  firmament.  He  is 
emphatically  a  democrat  of  the  world,  and  believes  that  what 
Plato  thought  another  man  may  think,  what  Paul  felt  another 
man  may  feel,  what  Shakspeare  sang  others  may  know  to  be 
true.  As  for  popes,  emperors,  kings,  queens,  princes,  and 
presidents,  he  looks  upon  them  as  grown-up  children  in  mas 
querade,  uncrown  them,  disrobe  them,  and  bring  them  on  a 
fair  level  with  their  fellow  beings,  and  their  superiors  may  be 
found  among  their  subjects.  In  his  essay  on  Self-Reliance,  he 
says :  "  Our  reading  is  mendicant  and  sycophantic  in  history, 
our  imagination  makes  fools  of  us,  plays  us  false.  Kingdom 
and  lordship,  power  and  estate,  are  a  gaudier  vocabulary  than 
private  John  or  Edward  in  a  small  house  and  common  day's 
works,  but  the  things  of  life  are  the  same  to  both.  Why  all 
this  deference  to  Alfred  and  Scanderberg  and  Gustavus  ? 
Suppose  they  were  virtuous,  did  they  wear  out  virtue  ?"  He 
has  no  patience  with  the  chicken-hearted,  who  have  to  refer 


120  CRA/ON    SKETCHES,    AND 

to  mouldy  records  and  old  almanacs  to  ascertain  if  they  may 
say  their  souls  are  their  own.  We  overlook  present  good  in 
our  insane  attempts  to  pry  into  the  mysteries  of  the  dark  past. 
We  put  the  past  in  front  of  our  faces,  instead  of  keeping  it 
behind  our  backs,  where  it  legitimately  belongs.  Hear  him  : 
"  He  dare  not  say  I  think  I  am,  but  quotes  some  saint  or  sage. 
He  is  ashamed  before  the  blade  of  grass  or  blowing  rose. 
These  roses  under  my  window  make  no  reference  to  former 
roses,  or  to  better  ones ;  they  are  for  what  they  are ;  they  exist 
with  God  to  day."  "  But  man  postpones  or  remembers  ;  he 
does  not  live  in  the  present,  but  with  reverted  eye  laments  the 
past,  or,  heedless  of  the  riches  that  surround  him,  stands  on 
tip-toe  to  foresee  the  future." 

This  idealistic  philosopher  and  Titian  thinker  is  not  san 
guine  in  his  hopes  of  progress.  He  has  the  impression  that 
men  say  "  go,"  and  stand  still ;  that  radicals  shout  "  reform," 
and  do  not  improve  themselves ;  that  many  Christians  go  to 
church  for  the  same  reason  that  the  multitude  went  into  the 
wilderness.  If  society  improves  here,  it  retrogrades  there; 
when  the  tide  of  prosperity  flows  in  one  place,  it  ebbs  in 
another.  We  have  maps,  charts,  books  and  globes,  but. 
neglect  to  study  the  beautiful  earth  and  the  bright  heavens. 
We  go  fast  (even  by  steam),  but  what  we  have  gained  in 
speed  we  have  lost  in  strength ;  we  have  acquired  a  know 
ledge  of  science  and  sacrificed  our  health ;  the  telegraph  is 
our  "  errand  boy,"  and  we  die  for  the  lack  of  exercise ;  we 
lose  our  roses  in  our  teens,  and  grow  grey  in  the  morning  ol 
life.  If  we  are  wiser,  we  are  also  older  than  our  fathers  were 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  121 

at  twice  our  age.  We  gape  and  gaze  at  every  novelty  that 
comes  before  us.  A  quack  with  his  nostrums,  a  priest  with 
his  nonsense  say  to  us,  "  Shut  your  eyes,  open  your  mouth, 
and  swallow ;"  and  we,  like  boa-constrictors,  swallow  the 
whole,  and  then  mistake  an  undigested  stomach-full  for  a 
heart-full. 

Mr.  Emerson  is  a  terse,  vivid,  and  graphic  writer.  Some 
times  there  is  a  glow  of  poetry  behind  a  veil  of  mist  in  his 
essays.  It  is  difficult  to  tell  at  what  he  is  driving.  He  is 
often  like  the  sun  in  a  fog ;  we  know  there  is  light  and  heat, 
but  the  vapor  hangs  like  a  thin  curtain  between  us  and  the 
luminary,  as  though  the  monarch  of  the  skies  was  trying  to 
hide  his  spots.  He  now  and  then  deals  in  unintelligible 
inversions,  inexplicable  mysticisms,  and  seems  to  shake  up 
his  disjointed  and  unsorted  ideas  in  ollapodiana  style,  as 
though  he  designed  to  give  us  the  "  clippings,  parings,  and 
shreds  of  his  thoughts."  If  Swedenborg  be  the  Shakspeare 
of  theology,  Emerson  is  the  Swedenborg  of  philosophy. 
Even  his  incongruous  agglomerations  are  brilliant,  as  they  are 
incomprehensible.  Read  the  following  as  a  specimen  of  that 
style :  "  The  Gothic  cathedral  is  a  blossoming  in  stone,  sub 
dued  by  the  insatiable  demand  of  harmony  in  man.  The 
mountain  of  granite  blooms  into  an  eternal  flower,  with  the 
lightness  and  delicate  finish  as  well  as  the  serial  proportions 
and  perspective  of  vegetable  beauty.  In  like  manner  all 
public  facts  are  to  be  individualized,  all  private  facts  are  to  bo 
generalized.  Then  at  once  history  becomes  fluid  and  true, 
and  biography  deep  and  sublime." 

6 


122  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Mr.  Emerson  is  a  poetical  as  well  as  a  prose  writer,  but 
there  is  more  poetry  in  his  prose  than  in  his  poems.  In 
Europe  he  is  regarded  as  the  essayist  of  America.  During 
his  tour  through  Great  Britain,  he  met  with  a  cordial  recep 
tion,  and  his  lectures  were  numerously  attended.  He  is  by 
some  entitled  the  "  Carlyle  of  America,"  but  he  is  evidently 
a  better  and  a  greater  man  than  Carlyle.  The  pupil  is  wiser 
than  the  teacher.  The  chip  is  larger  than  the  block.  He 
has  a  more  opulent  intellect,  much  better  taste,  and  higher 
and  holier  aims,  than  the  snarling,  cynical  philosopher  of  the 
Old  World. 

The  only  time  the  writer  had  an  opportunity  to  hear  Mr. 
Emerson,  was  at  a  mass  meeting  in  Worcester.  He  was  in  - 
vited  to  speak,  and  responded  with  great  reluctance,  and  then 
made  a  failure.  He  stammered,  halted,  blundered,  hesitated, 
through  a  five  minutes'  speech.  The  people  were  astonished 
at  his  awkwardness.  He  cannot  make  an  extemporaneous 
speech.  He  would  not  have  appeared  to  such  great  disadvan 
tage,  perhaps,  had  he  not  followed  directly  in  the  wake  of 
Wendell  Phillips.  Mr.  Emerson  is  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  is 
an  intellectual-looking  man ;  has  dark  brown  hair,  blue  eyes, 
a  pale,  thoughtful  face,  not  a  great  development  of  forehead, 
and  is  between  forty  and  fifty  years  of  age.  He  is  a  sociable, 
accessible,  republican  sort  of  a  man,  and  a  great  admirer 
of  nature.  Had  he  been  a  Persian  he  would  have  worshipped 
the  sun.  He  is  celebrated  the  world  over  as  a  lyceum  lec 
turer.  He  is  in  independent  circumstances.  He  is  a  strange 
compound  of  contradictions — always  right  in  practice,  often 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  123 

right  in  theory.  He  is  a  sun,  rising  in  the  East  and  setting 
in  the  West,  but  occasionally  he  alarms  and  astonishes  us  by 
rising  and  shining  at  midnight. 

The  literary  lilliputians,  who  have  endeavored  to  pin  rtmer. 
son  to  the  earth,  find  that  he  is  in  good  standing  with  the 
gods ;  of  course,  their  labors,  not  of  love  but  of  jealousy,  are 
lost.  He  loves  his  brother  man,  whether  he  belongs  to  the 
green-jacket  tribe  or  the  royal  family.  He  looks  upon  the 
flowers  as  his  friends. 

"  The  spendthrift  crocus,  bursting  from  the  mould, 
Naked  and  shivering  with  its  cup  of  gold," 

has  honey  and  fragrance  for  him.  The  birds  are  his  compa 
nions,  and  he  interprets  their  warblings.  He  reads  the  les 
sons  that  are  stereotyped  on  the  rocks — in  a  word,  to  hirn  the 
world  is  a  book  and  the  sky  its  blue  cover;  deserts  and 
oceans  arc  its  fly-leaves,  and  the  busy  nations  the  illustrations 
of  the  volume. 

Kossuth  probably  never  listened  to  a  more  eloquent  speech 
than  the  following. 

SPEECH    OF    RALPH    WALDO    EMERSON. 

"SiR. — The  fatigues  of  your  many  public  visits,  in  such 
unbroken  succession,  as  may  compare  with  *  the  toils  of  a 
campaign,  forbid  us  to  detain  you  long.  The  people  of  this 
town  share  with  their  countrymen  the  admiration  of  valor  and 
perseverance ;  they,  like  their  compatriots,  have  been  hungry 
to  see  the  man  whose  extraordinary  eloquence  is  seconded  b} 


]24  CRAT-ON  SKETCHES,  AND 

the  splendor  and  the  solidity  of  his  actions.  But,  as  it  is  the 
privilege  of  the  people  of  this  town  to  keep  a  hallowed  mound 
which  has  a  place  in  the  story  of  the  country — as  Concord  is 
one  of  the  monuments  of  freedom — we  knew  beforehand  that 
you  could  not  go  by  us ;  you  could  not  take  all  your  steps  in 
the  pilgrimage  of  American  liberty,  until  you  had  seen  with 
your  eyes  the  ruins  of  the  little  bridge,  where  a  handful  of 
brave  farmers  opened  our  Revolution.  Therefore,  we  sat  and 
waited  for  you. 

"  And  now,  Sir,  we  are  heartily  glad  to  see  you,  at  last,  in 
these  fields.  We  set  no  more  value  than  you  do,  on  cheers 
and  huzzas.  But  we  think  that  the  graves  of  our  heroes 
around  us  throb  to-day  to  a  footstep  that  sounded  like  their 

own ; 

'  The  mighty  tread 

Brings  from  the  dust  the  sound  of  liberty.' 

"  Sir,  we  have  watched  with  attention  your  progress  through 
the  land,  and  the  varying  feeling  with  which  you  have  been 
received,  and  the  unvarying  tone  and  countenance  which  you 
have  maintained.  We  wish  to  discriminate  in  oar  regard. 
We  wish  to  reserve  our  honor  for  actions  of  the  noblest  strain. 
We  please  ourselves  that  in  you  we  meet  one  whose  temper 
was  long  since  tried  in  the  fire,  and  made  equal  to  all  events  ; 
a  man  so  truly  in- love  with  the  greatest  future,  that  he  cannot 
be  diverted  to  any  less. 

"  It  is  our  republican  doctrine,  too,  that  the  wide  variety  of 
opinions  is  an  advantage;  I  believe,  I  may  say  of  the  people 
of  this  country  at  large,  that  their  sympathy  is  more  worth, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  125 

because  it  stands  the  test  of  party.  It  is  not  a  blind  wave 
it  is  the  living  soul,  contending  with  living  souls.  It  is,  in 
every  expression,  antagonized.  No  opinion  will  pass,  but 
must  stand  the  tug  of  war.  As  you  see,  the  love  you  win  ia 
worth  something ;  for  it  has  been  argued  through ;  its  foun 
dation  searched ;  it  has  proved  sound  and  whole ;  it  may  be 
avowed;  it  will  last;  and  it  will  draw  all  opinion  to  itself. 

"  We  have  seen,  with  great  pleasure,  that  there  is  nothing 
accidental  in  your  attitude.  We  have  se^n  that  you  are 
organically  in  that  cause  you  plead.  The  man  of  freedom, 
you  are  also  the  man  of  fate.  You  do  not  elect,  but  you  are 
elected  by  God  and  your  genius  to  your  task.  We  do  not, 
therefore,  affect  to  thank  you.  We  only  see  you  the  angel 
of  freedom,  crossing  sea  and  land ;  crossing  parties,  nationali 
ties,  private  interests,  and  self-esteems ;  dividing  populations, 
where  you  go,  and  drawing  to  your  part  only  the  good.  We 
are  afraid  you  are  growing  popular,  Sir ;  you  may  be  called  to 
the  dangers  of  prosperity.  But  hitherto,  you  have  had,  in 
all  countries,  and  in  all  parties,  only  the  men  of  heart.  I  do 
not  know  but  you  will  have  the  million  yet.  Then,  may  your 
strength  be  equal  to  your  day !  But  remember,  Sir,  that  every 
thing  great  and  excellent  in  the  world  is  in  minorities. 

"  Far  be  from  us,  sir,  any  tone  of  patronage ;  we  ought 
rather  to  ask  yours.  We  know  the  austere  condition  of 
liberty — that  it  must  be  reconquered  over  and  over  again ; 
yea,  day  by  day ;  that,  it  is  a  state  of  war ;  that  it  is  always 
slipping  from  those  who  boast  it,  to  those  who  right  for  it ; 
and  you,  the  foremost  soldier  of  freedom  in  this  age — it  is  foi 


126  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

us  to  crave  your  judgment — who  are  we,  that  we  should  die- 
tate  to  you  ? 

"You  have  won  your  own.  We  only  affirm  it.  This 
country  of  working-men  greets  in  you  a  worker.  This  Re 
public  greets  in  you  a  republican.  We  only  say,  'Well  done, 
good  and  faithful.'  You  have  earned  your  own  nobility  at 
home.  We  admit  you  ad  eundem  (as  they  say  at  college). 
We  admit  you  to  the  same  degree,  without  new  trial.  We 
suspend  all  rules  before  so  paramount  a  merit.  You  may 
well  sit  a  doctor  in  the  college  of  liberty.  You  have  achieved 
your  right  to  interpret  our  Washington.  And  I  speak  the 
sense,  not  only  of  every  generous  American,  but  the  law  of 
mind,  when  I  say,  that  it  is  not  those  who  live  idly  in  the  city 
called  after  his  name,  but  those  who,  all  over  the  world,  think 
and  act  like  him,  who  can  claim  to  explain  the  sentiment  of 
Washington. 

"  Sir,  whatever  obstruction  from  selfishness,  indifference,  or 
from  property  (which  always  sympathises  with  possession) 
you  may  encounter,  we  congratulate  you,  that  you  have 
known  how  to  convert  calamities  into  powers,  exile  into  a 
campaign,  present  defeat  into  lasting  victory.  For  this  new 
crusade  which  you  preach  to  willing  and  to  unwilling  ears  in 
America,  is  a  seed  of  armed  men.  You  have  got  your  story 
told  in  every  palace,  and  log  hut,  and  prairie  camp,  through 
out  this  continent.  And,  as  the  shores  of  Europe  and 
America  approach  every  month,  and  their  politics  will  one  day 
mingle,  when  the  crisis  arrives,  it  will  find  us  all  instructed 
beforehand  in  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  Hungary,  and  parties 
already  to  her  freedom/1 


Engta-7-ed "b-j  j.CB^ 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


JOHN  VAN  BUREN. 

PRINCE  JOHN  is  the  Duke  of  York,  the  distinguished  son 
of  King  Martin  the  First ;  is  the  Jupiter  Tonans  of  his  party, 
the  Jove  of  jolly  fellows,  a  royal  roystering  republican,  a 
genius  and  a  good  fellow,  admired  and  adored  by  the  masses. 
He  can  accommodate  himself  to  the  society  of  the  voters  in 
the  "  Sixth  Ward,"  or  the  company  of  peers  with  laced  gaunt 
lets,  knights  in  golden  mantles,  or  Presidents  at  the  "  White 
House,"  without  losing  his  identity.  He  is  John  Van  Buren, 
and  nobody  else,  whether  he  be  sitting  cheek-by-jowl  with 
Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  at  the  corner  grocery,  or  debating  with 
the  Cokes  and  Littletons  of  the  law  in  chancery,  or  hugging 
and  kissing  Queen  Victoria  in  her  palace.  When  the  obese, 
wheezing,  antediluvian  Hunkers  met  him  in  the  arena  of 
combat,  he  attacked  them  vigorously  and  repulsed  them  with 
great  (slaughter. 

This  apostle  of  the  "  young  democracy"  bids  fair  to  occupy 
an  important  niche  in  the  Pantheon  of  the  present  time.  He 
has  a  philosophical  and  penetrating  mind,  which  has  had  the 
advantages  and  disadvantages  of  every  degree  of  cultivation 
— in  the  palace  of  the  President  and  in  the  pothouse  of  the 
demagogue.  He  knows  there  are  zealots,  bigots,  and  earnest 
Christians  in  our  churches;  true  patriots  and  truckling 


128  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

sycophants  in  our  political  parties ;  devoted  philanthropists 
and  hollow-hearted  pretenders  in  our  benevolent  associations, 
and  he  governs  himself  accordingly.  He  knows  the  man- 
about-town,  and  permits  him  to  be  on  sociable  terms,  for  that 
comports  with  his  idea  of  republicanism.  He  allows  the 
hackman,  the  bar-tender,  the  wood-sawyer  and  the  butcher-boy 
to  call  him  Jack,  and  slap  him  on  the  shoulder,  for  the  same 
reason  the  sportsman  plays  with  his  dogs  at  the  commence 
ment  of  the  chase. 

John  Van  Buren  is  fond  of  the  chase,  and  he  will  hunt  the 
rats  to  the  barn,  and  then  set  the  buildings  on  fire,  for  he  is 
truly  a  "barnburner."  Sometimes  he  has  to  contend  with 
eloquent  reasoners  and  men  of  imperious  talent.  On  such 
occasions  he  displays  great  versatility  of  mind,  searching 
analysis,  nice  taste,  sound  judgment,  vivid  fancy,  polished 
scorn  and  convincing  logic.  He  can  be  comic,  dramatic, 
energetic,  picturesque,  sedate,  seductive,  inductive,  and  deduc 
tive.  He  punished  Croswell  (a  political  editor)  over  the 
remains  of  Silas  Wright,  as  Marc  Antony  did  Brutus  over 
the  dead  body  of  Ca3sar ;  and  when  the  man  of  "  mighty 
pens"  attempted  to  retreat,  he  got  his  "foot  in  the  gra- 
ting." 

At  a  mass  meeting,  when  Prince  John  was  the  mouthpiece 
of  his  party,  one  of  the  "  unterrified "  proposed  three  cheers 
for  Cass.  "  Oh,  don't,"  said  the  waggish  orator,  with  a  look 
of  mock  gravity;  "it  will  be  like  whistling  at  a  funeral." 
His  speeches  are  often  enlivened  with  caustic  wit  and  unmis 
takable  home-thrusts  Sometimes  he  leads  his  hearers  through 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  120 

a  dead  level  of  political  history,  without  either  song  or  story 
to  change  the  dull  monotony  and  cheer  the  impatient  hearer, 
He  writes  clearly  and  forcibly,  regardless  of  finish  or  orna 
ment  ;  has  as  much  shrewdness,  adroitness,  and  world-wisdom 
as  his  father,  but  less  secretiveness,  less  suavity  and  less 
dignity ;  can  excel  his  father  at  stump  speaking,  but  cannot 
equal  him  in  writing  a  Message.  John  annihilates  his 
enemies  by  the  simoon  of  his  sarcasm ;  his  father  catches 
them  in  the  trap  of  stratagem,  and  compliments  them  into 
bosom  friendship.  Indeed,  he  is  an  unconverted  Paul, 
pursuing  (not  persecuting)  hunkers  (not  Christians)  to 
strange  cities,  while  his  father  is  Absalom  (without  the 
locks),  winning  the  hearts  of  the  people. 

Prince  John  is  a  favorite  among  the  ladies.  It  is  currently 
reported  that  when  Queen  Victoria  presented  her  lily-white 
hand  for  him  to  kiss,  according  to  court  etiquette,  he,  in 
the  face  of  such  usages,  with  republican  gallantry  folded 
his  arms  around  her  neck,  and  gave  her  a  hearty  smack 
upon  her  cheek.  It  is  also  said  that  during  his  widower- 
hood  he  paid  some  attention  to  a  lady  of  fortune  in  Western 
New  York,  and  once  upon  a  time,  when  they  were  riding 
on  horseback,  he  ventured  to  pop  the  question.  The 
lady  changed  the  subject  by  asking  him  to  overtake  her 
at  the  same  time  giving  her  horse  a  hint  which  caused 
him  to  bound  forward  with  the  speed  of  the  wind.  John 
was  astride  a  livery  stable  hack,  and  was  soon  distanced; 
and  not  a  little  mortified  at  seeing  the  lady's  glove  upon 
the  road !  If  it  be  true  that  this  distinguished  "  son  of 

6* 


130  CRAYON   SKETCHES,    AND 

Y'ork"  has  refrained  from  the  use  of  wine,  there  is  a 
brilliant  future  before  him.  He  is  so  frank,  so  generous, 
and  so  gifted,  he  is  the  man  the  people  will  delight  tc 
honor ;  but  he  must  not,  like  Alcibiades,  deface  the  imagea 
of  the  gods  and  expect  to  be  pardoned  on  the  score  of  eccen 
tricky- 

Mr.  Van  Buren  is  one  of  the  first  men  in  the  "  Empire 
State."  lie  sustains  the  same  relationship  to  the  Democratic 
party  that  Seward  holds  to  the  Whig  party.  In  persona] 
appearance,  he  is  a  tall,  spare  man,  with  a  "  locofocoish"  look, 
somewhat  round-shouldered,  and  stoops  a  little  when  he  walks, 
as  though  he  had  to  bear  upon  his  back  the  responsibility  of 
the  party  he  lately  rejuvenated.  His  head  is  prematurely 
bald,  and  the  scanty  supply  of  hair  that  is  left  is  soft,  thin, 
and  of  a  foxy  color,  and  has  that  phosphorescent  appearance 
which  indicates  a  readiness  to  blaze  the  moment  there  is  any 
friction  of  brain — hence  his  flashes  of  wit  when  he  is  rubbed. 
He  is  about  forty  years  of  age,  has  an  ample  forehead,  expres 
sive  eyes,  and  a  countenance  denoting  a  high  order  of 
intellect. 

He  is  an  eminent  lawyer,  a  great  statesman,  a  progress 
politician.  There  is  a  sort  of  don't-care-a-copper-ativeness 
about  him,  a  reckless  spirit  of  dare-anything-ism,  which  is 
repulsive  to  the  amiable,  though  delightful  to  the  disciples  of 
rowdyism.  In  his  happiest  moods,  when  speaking  from  the  tri 
bune,  he  is  chaste,  classical,  philosophical,  and  the  illuminati 
become  his  enthusiastic  admirers.  He  only  needs  the  grace 
ful  polish,  the  serene  dignity  of  his  father,  added  to  his  othet 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  1S1 

best  attributes,  to  render  him  one  of  the  most  useful,  honora 
ble  and  distinguished  men  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

That  he  is  destined,  if  his  life  is  spared,  to  hold  an  impor 
tant  relation  to  the  politics  of  his  country,  is  the  sincere  belie! 
of  CRAYON. 


112  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 

• 

"  THERE,"  said  our  driver,  "  is  the  birth-place  of  John  G. 
Whittier,"  when  he  pointed  to  a  plain  farm-house  on  the  edge 
of  the  town  of  Haverhill,  situated  a  short  walk  from  the  road 
side — or,  as  the  poet  himself  describes  the  old  homestead — • 
"Our  farm-house  was  situated  in  a  lonely  valley,  half  sur 
rounded  with  woods,  with  no  neighbors  in  sight." 

Soon  after  my  arrival  at  the  busy  and  beautiful  village  of 
Amesbury,  where  the  great  poet  of  humanity  now  lives,  I  ascer 
tained  his  whereabouts,  and  gave  him  a  letter  of  introduction, 

written  by  our  mutual  friend,  W.  A.  W ,  an  untiring 

co-laborer  in  the  work-field  of  reform.  I  found  him  at  home, 
in  his  Quaker  cottage,  where  his  friends  and  visitors  are  sure 
to  meet  with  a  kind  reception.  On  the  adjoining  lot  is  another 
nest  in  the  bushes,  where  a  family  of  singers  give  vocal  utter 
ance  to  the  poetry  Whittier  writes.  Mr.  W.  responded  to  the 
rap  at  the  door,  and  invited  me  to  take  a  chair  in  a  plain,  neat 
room,  which  commands  a  view  of  a  large  and  beautiful  garden, 
where  he  spends  a  share  of  his  leisure  time,  when  his  health 
will  permit  him  to  work  there.  He  gave  me  an  introduction 
to  his  excellent  mother,  and  after  a  little  chat  on  the  common 
topics  of  conversation,  politely  invited  me  to  remain  and  taka 
tea  with  him. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


133 


I  knew  quite  well  that  I  was  in  the  presence  of  one  of  the 
puresfcminded  and  most  gifted  men  in  America  ;  a  man  whose 
name  and  fame  are  world-wide,  and  "  as  familiar  as  household 
words  ;"  a  man  whose  mighty  thoughts  are  winged  with  words 
of  fire;  but  he  is  so  unassuming,  so  accessible,  so  frank,  and 
so  well  "  posted  up  "  on  all  matter  of  news,  that,  whatever  sub 
ject  is  broached,  one  feels  at  home  in  the  presence  of  a  friend, 
while  conversing  with  him.  This  eminent  poet  of  the  slave  is 
forty  years  of  age.  His  temperament  is  nervous-bilious  ;  he  is 
tall,  slender,  and  straight  as  an  Indian ;  has  a  superb  head ; 
his  brow  looks  like  a  white  cloud,  under  his  raven  hair ;  eyes 
large,  black  as  sloes,  and  glowing  with  expression.  He  belongs 
to  the  society  of  Friends,  and  in  matters  of  dress  and  address, 
he  is  of  u  the  strictest  sort."  Should  a  stranger  meet  him  in 
the  street,  with  his  collarless  coat  and  broad-brimmed  hat,  he 
would  not  discover  anything  remarkable  in  his  appearance, 
certainly  would  not  dream  that  he  had  seen  the  Elliott  of 
America.  But,  let  him  uncover  that  head,  and  see  those  star- 
like  eyes  flashing  under  such  a  magnificent  forehead,  and  he 
would  know,  at  a  glance,  that  a  great  heart,  a  great  soul,  and 
a  great  intellect,  must  light  up  such  a  radiant  frontispiece. 
His  fellow  townsmen  are  proud  of  his  fame,  as  well  they  may 
be,  for  Amesbury  will  be  known  all  over  the  world,  to  the  end 
of  time,  as  the  residence  of  John  G.  Whittier,  "  the  poet  of  the 
poor." 

Wherever  he  discovers  the  talisman  of  intellect  he  recog 
nises  a  brother ;  "  though  his  skin  and  bones  were  of  the  color 
of  night,  they  are  transparent,  and  the  everlasting  stars  shine 


134  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

through  them  with  attractive  beams."  He  knows  that  com 
plexion  is  not  a  crime,  crisped  hair  is  not  a  sin,  thick  lips  are 
not  a  transgression,  and  he  has  bared  his  arms  to  avert  the 
blow  that  would  plough  the  quivering  flesh  of  the  toil-worn 
slave.  He  has  heard  the  wail  of  the  distracted  mother,  who, 
like  Rachel,  refuses  to  be  comforted  because  her  child  has  been 
torn  from  her  bosom  and  sold  into  hopeless  servitude,  where 
her  eye  cannot  pity  its  sorrows,  where  her  hand  cannot  allevi 
ate  its  distress ;  and  he  has  denounced  such  fiendish  cruelty 
with  an  eloquence  and  pathos  approximating  to  inspiration. 
He  has  seen  hollow-hearted  statesmen  tear  the  stripes  from  our 
fl  ag  and  put  them  on  the  backs  of  our  countrymen ;  and  he  has 
spiced  sheets  that  will  preserve  such  mummies  in  the  amber 
and  pitch  of  infamy  for  ever.  He  has  seen  the  fugitive  flying 
from  the  house  of  bondage,  with  hunters  and  blood-hounds  on 
his  track  in  hot  pursuit,  and  he  has  shouted,  "  God  speed  the 
slave !"  until  lungless  echo  has  repeated  the  cry  on  every  hill 
top  of  the  free  North.  He  has  seen  where  the  red-hot  brand 
ing-iron  has  been  pressed  on  the  shrinking  flesh  of  a  freeman's 
hand,  until  the  sizzling  blood  spouted  from  the  wound ;  and  the 
angel  of  his  muse  touched  his  lips  with  a  burning  coal  from  the 
altar  of  God,  whilst  he  immortalized  the  patient  hero,  and 
annihilated  everything  but  the  damnable  infamy  of  the  heart 
less,  soulless  persecutors. 

Mr.  Whittier  is  a  sincere  lover  of  truth  and  right,  and  his 
language  is,  "  In  vain,  and  long,  enduring  wrong,  the  weak 
may  strive  against  the  strong,  but  the  day  shall  yet  appear, 
when  the  might  with  the  right  and  the  truth  shall  be,  and 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  135 

come  what  there  may,  to  stand  in  the  way,  that  day  the  world 
shall  see."  (Pardon  my  drawing  the  lines  into  prose.  I  quote 
from  memory,  and  fear  I  might  do  still  greater  injustice  to  the 
author,  by  measuring  the  sentiment  off  into  verse.)  Such  men 
as  he,  are  excluded  from  the  South,  but  slaveholders  can  no 
more  keep  out  his  sentiments  than  the  fool  could  keep  the 
wind  out  of  the  barn-yard  by  closing  the  gate.  Judging  by 
the  emotions  excited  by  his  writings,  we  are  led  to  the  con 
clusion  that  he  usually  writes  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  but  a 
certain  magazine  publisher,  whose  likeness  accompanied  one 
of  the  numbers  of  his  magazine,  can  testify  that  his  satire 
punishes  like  the  sting  of  a  scorpion.  Read  the  following 
lines :  — 

"  A  moony  breadth  of  virgin  face, 

By  thought  unviolated, 
A  patient  mouth  to  take  from  scorn 

The  hook  with  bank-notes  baited,— 
Its  self-complacent  sleekness  shows 

How  thrift  goes  with  the  fawner , 
An  unctuous  unconcern  for  all, 

Which  nice  folks  call  dishonor." 

An  eminent  statesman  will  find  it  difficult  to  outlive  the 
following  lines :  — 

"  So  fallen,  so  lost !  the  light  withdrawn 

Which  once  he  wore  ! 
The  glory  from  his  grey  hairs  gone 
For  ever  more. 


136  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

**  Let  not  the  land  once  proud  of  him 

Insult  him  now, 

Nor  brand  with  deeper  shame  his  dim, 
"Dishonored  brow. 

"  But  let  its  humbled  sons  instead, 

From  sea  to  lake, 
A  long  lament  as  for  the  dead, 
In  sadness  make 

"  Then  pay  the  reverence  of  old  days 

To  his  dead  fame ; 
Walk  backward  with  averted  gaze, 
And  hide  the  shame." 


Whittier  s  poetry  is  eloquence  measured  with  a  golden  reed, 
verse  on  fire,  pathos  crying  in  the  notes  of  the  nightingale, 
philosophy  playing  on  the  harp,  humor  laughing  in  numbers, 
wit  rained  down  from  heaven  in  a  shower  of  stars.  His  Avrit- 
ings  are  not  free  from  imperfections  of  style  and  sentiment ; 
but  men  seldom  notice  pebbles,  while  looking  at  the  lights 
in  the  cerulean  arch  above.  He  is  the  author  of  several 
volumes  of  prose,  which  are  widely  circulated.  His  verses  are 
full  of  philosophy,  beauty,  and  sublimity.  He  sympathizes 
with  the  unfortunate,  and  chastises  the  oppressor  with  a  whip 
of  adders.  In  some  of  his  patriotic  appeals  he  reminds  us  of 
the  old  prophets.  Had  Isaiah  lived  in  these  times,  he  might 
have  written  the  following  lines  without  impairing  his  reputa 
tion :  — 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  137 

"  Now,  by  ouv  fathers'  ashes  !  where' s  the  spirit 

Of  the  true-hearted  and  the  unshackled  gone  ? 
Sons  of  the  old  freemen,  do  we  but  inherit 
Their  names  alone  ? 

i 
"  Is  the  old  Pilgrim  spirit  quenched  within  us  ? 

Stoops  the  proud  manhood  of  our  souls  so  low, 
That  mammon's  lure  or  party's  wile  can  win  U3 
To  silence  now  ? 

11  No !     When  our  land  to  ruin's  brink  is  verging, 

In  God's  name  let  us  speak  while  there  is  time  ! 
Now,  when  the  padlocks  for  our  lips  are  forging, 

SILENCE  is  CRIME  !  "  • 

Some  of  his  best  poems  have  been  published  in  beautiful 
style  in  Boston  lately,  but  the  work  is  so  expensive  the  masses 
are  not  able  to  buy  it.  His  writings  do  not  need  such  costly 
embellishments  to  be  appreciated,  any  more  than  the  sun 
needs  a  stained  window  through  which  to  shine.  The  lark 
and  the  nightingale  need  not  the  costume  of  the  peacock  to 
ensure  admiration. 

Mr.  Whittier  is  one  of  the  editors  of  the  "  National  Era? 
and  I  may  say,  in  a  whisper,  to  the  ladies,  he  is  a — bachelor 

The  reader  is  here  presented  with  a  short  specimen  of  Mr. 
Whittier's  prose  composition. 

AN   INCIDENT   OF   THE   INDIAN   WAE   OF   1695. 

"  The  township  of  Haverhill,  even  as  late  as  the  close  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  was  a  frontier  settlement,  occupying 
an  advanced  position  in  the  great  wilderness,  which,  unbroken 


I  S3  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

by  <he  clearing  of  a  white  man,  extended  from  the  Merrimack 
river  to  the  French  villages  on  the  river  St  Francois.  A  tra.  i 
of  twelve  miles  on  the  river  and  three  or  four  northwardly 
was  .occupied  by  scattered  settlers,  while  in  the  centre  of  the 
town  «  compact  village  of  some  thirty  houses  had  grown  up. 
In  tho  immediate  vicinity  there  were  but  few  Indians,  and 
these  generally  peaceful  and  inoffensive.  On  the  breaking 
out  of  the  Narragansett  war,  the  inhabitants  had  erected 
fortifications,  and  taken  other  measures  for  defence;  but, 
with  the  horrible  exception  of  one  man,  who  was  found  slain 
in  the  woods  in  16*76,  none  of  the  inhabitants  were  molested ; 
and  it  was  not  until  about  the  year  1689,  that  the  safety  of 
the  settlem-wct  was  seriously  threatened.  Three  person^  were 
killed  in  that  year.  In  1690,  six  garrisons  were  established 
in  different  parts  of  the  town,  with  a  small  company  of 
soldiers  attached  to  each.  Two  of  these  houses  are  still 
standing.  They  were  built  of  brick,  two  stories  high,  with  a 
single  outside  door,  so  small  and  narrow  that  but  one  person 
could  enter  at  a  time  ?  the  windows  few,  and  only  about  two 
and  a  half  feet  long  by  eighteen  inches  wide,  wiih  thick 
diamond  glass,  secured  with  lead,  and  crossed  inside  with 
bars  of  iron.  The  basement  had  but  two  rooms,  and  the 
chamber  was  entered  by  a  ladder  instead  of  stairs,  so  that  the 
inmates,  if  driven  thither,  could  cut  off  communication  with 
the  rooms  below.  Many  private  houses  were  strengthened 
and  fortified.  We  remember  one,  familiar  to  our  boyhood,  a 
venerable  old  building  of  wood,  with  brick  between  the 
weatherboards  and  ceiling,  with  a  massive  balustrade  over  th€ 


OFF-HAND    TAAlNUS.  139 

door,  constructed  of  oak  timber  and  plank,  with  holes  through 
the  latter  for  firing  upon  assailants.  The  door  opened  upon  y 
stone-paved  hall  or  entry,  leading  into  the  huge  single  room 
of  the  basement,  which  was  lighted  by  two  small  windows ; 
the  ceiling  black  with  the  smoke  of  a  century  and  a  half — a 
huge  fire-place,  calculated  for  eight-foot  wood,  occupying  one 
entire  siae — while  overhead,  suspended  from  the  timbers,  or 
on  shelves  fastened  to  them,  were  household  stores,  farming 
utensils,  fishing  rods,  guns,  bunches  of  herbs,  gathered  perhaps 
a  century  ago,  strings  of  dried  apples  and  pumpkins,  links  of 
mottled  sausages,  spare- ribs,  and  flitches  of  bacon;  the  fire 
light  of  an  evening  dimly  revealing  the  checked  woollen 
coverlet  of  the  bed  in  one  far-off  corner — and  in  another, 


the  pewter  plates  on  the  dresser 


Caught  and  reflected  the  flame  as  shields  of  armies  the  sunshine.' 

"Tradition  has  preserved  many  incidents  of  life  in  the 
garrisons.  In  times  of  unusual  peril,  the  settlers  generally 
resorted  at  night  to  the  fortified  houses,  taking  thither  their 
flocks  and  herds,  and  such  household  valuables  as  were  most 
likely  to  strike  the  fancy  or  minister  to  the  comfort  or  vanity 
of  the  heathen  marauders.  False  alarms  were  frequent.  The 
smoke  of  a  distant  fire,  the  bark  of  a  dog  in  the  deep  woods, 
a  stump  or  bush,  taken  in  the  uncertain  light  of  stars  and 
moon  for  the  appearance  of  a  man,  were  sufficient  to  spread 
alarm  through  the  entire  settlement,  and  to  cause  the  armed 
men.  of  the  garrison  to  pass  v/hole  nights  in  sleepless  watching. 

"  It  is  said  that  at  Haseltine's  garrison-house,  the  sentinel  on 


140  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

duty  saw,  as  he  thought,  an  Indian  inside  of  the  paling  which 
surrounded  the  building,  and  apparently  seeking  to  gain  an 
entrance.  He  promptly  raised  his  musket  and  fired  at  the 
intruder,  alarming  thereby  the  entire  garrison.  The  women 
and  children  left  their  beds,  and  the  men  seized  their  guns, 
and  commenced  firing  on  the  suspicious  object,  but  it  seemed 
to  bear  a  charmed  life  and  remained  unharmed.  As  the 
morning  dawned,  however,  the  mystery  was  solved  by  the 
discovery  of  a  black  quilted  petticoat  hanging  on  the  clothes 
line,  completely  riddled  with  balls." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  141 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

IT  is  really  surprising  that  a  country  so  young  as  America, 
can  count  so  many  men  of  extraordinary  talent  and  true 
genius.  I  know  that  unappreciating  asses  and  conceited 
ascetics,  who  glory  in  denouncing  the  land  they  disgrace,  tell 
us,  with  all  the  gravity  of  ignorant  and  impertinent  assurance, 
that  there  are  no  great  men  (of  course  they  except  them 
selves)  in  the  United  States,  as  though  intellect  was  bounded 
by  state  lines,  or  blighted  by  the  atmosphere  on  this  side  the 
Atlantic.  To  such  an  extent  have  the  unthinking  masses 
caught  this  infection  of  contempt  for  their  own  countrymen, 
that  poets  and  preachers,  actors  and  authors,  of  all  degrees  of 
talent,  are,  comparatively,  unrecognised  until  they  have  been 
endorsed  by  an  European  reputation.  Indeed,  this  remark 
applies  to  persons  who  are  not  devoted  to  literary  pursuits. 
If  a  man  would  succeed  in  sailing  a  boat,  or  picking  a 
lock,  or  mowing  a  field  of  grain,  his  fortune  is  made  when 
England  acknowledges  the  superiority  of  his  skill,  and  it  is 
much  to  the  credit  of  the  mother  country,  that  she  is  ever 
ready  to  acknowledge  the  peculiar  gifts  and  graces  of  her 
transatlantic  rival. 

We  are  indebted  to  famous  old  England  for  the  discovery 
that  Cooper  and  Irving  were  men  of  true  genius,  and  that  the 
latter  could  write  in  a  style  which  would  be  no  discredit  to 
When  Dickens  was  in  this  country,  he  paid  a 


142  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

very  handsome  and  merited  compliment  to  the  celebrated 
author  of  the  "  Alhambra  "  and  "  Knickerbocker."  I  begac 
by  alluding  to  men  and  women  of  genius,  with  the  intention 
of  glancing  at  a  few  of  them,  but  I  must  postpone  that  plea 
sant  task  for  the  present,  and  proceed  at  once  with  my  sketch 
of  the  American  Goldsmith.  I  know  not  among  his  own 
countrymen,  any  author  with  whom  to  compare  him.  He 
has  more  polish  and  less  wit  than  Paulding;  he  is  not  so 
much  given  to  detail,  and  has  greater  wealth  of  imagery  than 
Cooper;  he  has  a  smoother  style,  and  a  more  fascinating 
manner  than  Hawthorne ;  and  is  no  more  like  Emerson,  than 
a  candle  is  like  a  comet.  In  many  points  he  is  unlike  the 
author  of  the  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield."  Goldsmith  was  bashful, 
awkward,  and  of  ordinary  personal  appearance ;  Irving  has 
the  assurance  of  a  well-bred  gentleman,  is  graceful  in  his 
manners  and  movements,  and  his  form  of  perfect  proportion 
is  surmounted  by  a  magnificent  head  and  handsome  face. 
Notwithstanding  these  and  other  dissimilarities,  their  style  is 
alike.  There  is  the  same  glowing  rhetoric,  the  same  opulence 
of  illustration,  the  same  perfection  of  finish.  This  is  not  the 
result  of  education ;  there  has  been  no  effort  to  imitate  the 
conversational  ease,  the  tender  shiftings,  the  pleasant  pathos, 
the  gentle  sportiveness,  the  splendid  raillery  of  Goldsmith. 

Irving  excels  in  "  literary  light  horsemanship ;"  he  never 
stops  to  argue  his  case,  and  yet  there  is  a  meaning  and  a 
depth  in  his  philosophy,  which  answers  the  purpose  of  the 
most  elaborate  logic ;  and  here  I  may  be  permitted  to  say,  that 
not  a  few  of  our  writers  who  are  now  in  active  service,  and 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  143 

who  make  no  pretensions  whatever  to  prove  their  positions  by 
mathematical  demonstration,  give  the  appreciative  reader  that 
proof  which  sinks  lower  and  weighs  heavier  than  the  profound- 
est  argument.  Read  some  of  the  best  things  by  N.  P.  Willis, 
and  he  has  written  some  of  the  best  things  in  the  English 
language,  and  you  will  find  sermons  in  a  sentence,  poems  in 
parentheses,  scattered  with  princely  profusion  over  the  works 
which  come  from  his  prolific  pen.  Yet,  Mr.  Willis  is  not  a 
metaphysician,  he  is  not  a  sermonizer,  not  a  discussionist,  but 
he  has  the  genius  to  invent,  and  the  pluck  to  print  what  he 
discovers,  without  waiting  to  hunt  up  mouldy  precedents  to 
sustain  him.  I  have  noticed  more  originality  often  in  a  sin 
gle  page  of  the  "  Home  Journal,"  than  I  have  found  in  the 
next  octavo  that  I  perseveringly  waded  through.  This  is  but 
a  single  instance  to  show  that  conviction  does  not  always 
depend  on  solid  argument,  and  that  sound  philosophy  is  not 
necessarily  excluded  from  the  works  of  those  who  write, 
because  they  cannot  help  it ;  men,  whose  impulses  are  often 
more  reliable  than  the  intellect  of  those  who  weigh  every 
word,  and  use  square  and  compass  on  every  sentence,  before 
they  venture  to  feed  those  who  are  hungering  and  thirsting 
after  knowledge. 

The  popularity  of  Irving  arises  principally  from  the  fact, 
that  while  his  style  is  elegant,  and  his  thoughts  are  full  of 
suggestions,  he  does  not  soar  above  the  comprehension  of  the 
mass  of  readers,  while  he  never  fails  to  gratify  the  refined 
taste  of  the  most  fastidious,  and  satisfy  the  demand  of  the 
best  thinkers. 


144  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Being  of  the  sanguine,  nervous  temperament,  he  imparts 
the  thrilling  glow  of  his  exuberant  nature  to  the  rich 
productions  of  his  magic  pen,  so  that  the  reader  becomes 
intensely  interested;  indeed,  one  almost  feels  the  author's 
heart  throbbing  at  the  point  of  his  pen,  and  the  pulse  beating 
in  every  paragraph ;  he  is  genial  as  the  light,  and  when  he 
puts  forth  an  intellectual  effort,  it  seems  as  though  his  soul 
arose  like  a  sun  in  his  breast,  shedding  warmth,  and  light, 
and  beauty,  on  the  enchanting  page.  His  readers,  not  only 
admire  his  genius  but  love  the  man  ;  his  humor  is  so  amiable, 
his  pathos  so  touching,  and  his  philosophy  so  true  to  nature, 
that  he  commands  our  affection,  while  he  irresistibly  compels 
our  attention.  Then,  again,  his  cordial  greeting,  his  constant 
urbanity,  his  genuine  courtesy,  his  gentlemanly  address,  and 
his  spotless  character,  all  contribute  to  form  life-lasting 
friendships.  Who  ever  heard  any  one  speak  contemptuously 
of  Washington  Irving  ?  Everybody  acquainted  with  his 
writings  desire  him  all  the  happiness  and  all  the  success  he 
aimed  at.  Such  flexibility  of  style,  such  purity  of  sentiment, 
such  perfection  of  finish,  is  rarely  found  in  prose  writers  of 
the  present  day.  Who  has  such  richness  of  ideality,  such 
copiousness  of  language,  such  exuberance  of  fancy?  His 
writings  are  chaste  as  the  snow,  and*  surpassingly  beautiful  in 
their  elegant  uniformity. 

His  physical  organization  is  perfect.  Although  now  quite 
advanced  in  life,  he  is  erect  as  a  palm  tree,  and  walks  with 
the  elastic  vigor  of  a  young  man.  He  is  not  above  the  com 
mon  size,  of  ordinary  stature,  with  a  contemplative  cast  of  facet, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  145 

dark  hair,  dark  complexion,  and  dark  pensive  eyes,  which 
kindle  when  he  becomes  interested  in  conversation.  Speci 
mens  of  his  stvle  may  be  found  in  all  our  books  of  choice 
prqse  selections. 

The  following  is  from  a  beautiful  work,  entitled  "  Homes 
and  Haunts  of  American  Authors  :" — 

"Washington  Irving,  although  so  obviously  adapted  by 
natural  endowments  for  the  career  in  which  he  has  acquired 
such  eminence,  was  educated,  like  many  men  of  letters,  for 
the  legal  profession ;  he,  however,  early  abandoned  the  idea 
of  practice  at  the  bar  for  the  more  lucrative  vocation  of  a 
merchant.  His  brothers  were  established  in  business,  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  and  invited  him  to  take  an  interest  in 
their  house,  with  the  understanding  that  his  literary  tastes 
should  be  gratified  by  abundant  leisure.  The  unfortunate 
crisis  in  mercantile  affairs  that  followed  the  peace  of  1815, 
involved  his  family,  and  threw  him  upon  his  own  resources  for 
subsistence.  To  this  apparent  disaster  is  owing  his  subse 
quent  devotion  to  literature.  The  strong  bias  of  his  own 
nature,  however,  had  already  indicated  his  destiny;  his 
inaptitude  for  affairs  of  business,  his  sensibility  to  the 
beautiful,  his  native  humor,  and  the  love  he  early  exhibited 
for  wandering,  observing,  and  indulging  in  day  dreams,  would 
infallibly  have  led  him  to  record  his  fancies  and  his  feelings. 

"  Indeed,  he  had  already  done  so  with  effect,  in  a  series  of 
letters,  which  appeared  in  a  newspaper  of  which  his  brother 
was  editor.  His  tendency  to  a  free,  meditative,  and  adven 
turous  life,  was  confirmed  by  his  visit  to  Europe,  in  early 

t 


146  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

youth.  Born  in  the  city  of  New  York,  on  the  3d  of  April, 
1783,  he  pursued  his  studies,  his  rambles,  and  occasional 
pencraft  there,  until  1804,  when  ill  health  made  it  expedient 
for  him  to  go  abroad.  He  sailed  for  Bordeaux,  and  thence 
roamed  over  the  most  beautiful  portions  of  southern  Europe, 
visited  Switzerland  and  Holland,  sojourned  in  Paris,  and 
returned  home  in  1806.  In  1809,  *  Knickerbocker's  History 
of  New  York,  appeared,  then  followed  the  'Sketch  Book/ 
'  Bracebridge  Hall,'  *  Tales  of  a  Traveller,'  '  Life  of  Columbus,* 
'  Conquest  of  Granada,'  '  Alhambra,'  &c.  He  was  afterwards 
appointed  Secretary  of  Legation  to  the  American  Embassy,  in 
London,  which  office  he  held  until  the  return  of  Mr.  McLane, 
in  1831.  During  his  stay  in  England,  he  received  one  of  the 
fifty  guinea  gold  medals,  provided  by  George  IV.,  for  emi 
nence  in  historical  composition  and  the  degree  of  LL.  IX 
from  the  University  of  Oxford  ;  on  his  return  to  New  York, 
in  1832,  he  was  welcomed  by  a  festival. 

"He  afterwards  wrote  the  'Tour  on  the  Prairies,' 
'  Newstead  Abbey,' '  Legends  of  Spain,' '  Astoria,'  '  The  Adven 
tures  of  Captain  Bonneville,'  and  other  works,  and  is  now 
engaged  on  the  '  Life  of  Washington.'  " 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  14T 


G.  W.  BETHUNE. 

Br  refering  to  Griswold's  popular  and  beautiful  book  of 
American  Poetry  I  find  that  the  Rev.  George.  "W.  Bethune, 
the  poet  and  the  preacher,  was  born  in  the  Empire  State.  His 
reputation  as  a  scholar  and  an  orator  are  such  as  to  render  his 
name  quite  familiar  to  American  citizens,  in  all  parts  of  this 
Confederacy.  He  is  the  author  of  several  volumes  of  literary 
and  religious  discourses,  which  are  as  much  distinguished  as 
his  poems,  by  a  genial  loving  spirit,  and  a  classical  elegance  of 
diction.  In  1847  he  edited  an  edition  of  Walton's  Angler, 
supplying  many  ingenious  and  learned  notes,  and  in  the  same 
year  he  published  a  volume  of  "  Lays  of  Love  and  Faith." 
The  following  graphic  sketch  I  have  been  permitted  to  copy 
ill  advance  of  publication  from  a  splendid  work  now  in  press 
in  Boston.  The  work  to  which  the  writer  is  so  deeply  indebted 
is  entitled  the  "  Church-goer  ;"  it  is  from  the  pen  of  my  friend 
Dr.  J.  R.  Dix,  a  sketch  of  whom  may  be  found  in  another 
portion  of  this  volume — and  here  I  will  venture  the  prediction 
that  his  series  of  pulpit  sketches  will  have  an  immense  circula 
tion  in  this  country.  The  allusion  to  the  English  clergymen* 
in  the  following  extract,  although  by  no  means  disrespectful, 
offended  one  of  our  Yankee  aristocrats  to  such  an  extent  that 

*  The  articles  were  published  first  in  a  weekly  periodical  in  Boston. 


148  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

he  foolishly  exhibited   his   bad    temper  and  worse   taste  by 
denouncing  the  writer  and  the  publisher. 

"  There  he  stands,  and  so  let  him  for  a  few  moments,  whilst 
the  reporters  are  sharpening  their  pencils — the  people  settling 
down  in  their  places,  and  your  humble  servant  '  all  eye  all  ear.' 

"Externally,  Dr.  George  W.  Bethune  is  of  the  portly,  parso 
nic  order,  and  in  respect  of  adipose  matter  he  forms  a  very 
striking  contrast  to  the  reverend  gentleman  upon  whom,  the 
reader  will  remember,  I  accidentally  stumbled  in  Philadelphia. 
He  was  none  of  your  lean,  hungry,  ascetic  looking  men,  such 
for  instance  as  was  in  appearance  the  late  Moses  Stuart,  who, 
when  I  saw  him  in  his  dusty  old  study  at  Andover,  looked  as 
musty  and  as  dry  as  any  of  the  'Fathers'  on  his  shelves. 
No,  the  Doctor  rather  reminded  me  of  that  sleek  and  oily 
gentleman,  Friar  Tuck,  whose  very  name  is  suggestive  of 
venison  pasties  and  '  dainty  bits  of  warden  pie.'  Neither  did 
he  at  all  provoke  remembrances  of  certain  hard-working 
Curates.  Far  from  it ;  he  was  of  the  Bishop  order — that  sort 
of  bishop  I  mean  who  holds  a  fat  diocese,  and  dispenses  di 
vinity  in  lawn  sleeves.  Mind,  I  speak  only  of  externals,  for  I 
believe  that  very  few  of  the  old  British  bishops  to  whom  I 
refer  are,  so  far  as  mental  endowments  or  usefulness  are  con 
cerned,  at  all  comparable  with  our  orator  of  the  Phi  Beta 

Kappa. 

"  Dr.  Bethune's  face  possesses  a  shrewd  but  certainly  not  a 
highly  intellectual  expression — it  is  too  fleshy  for  that.  The 
forehead  is  broad,  but  not  high ;  and  on  its  summit  the  long, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  149 

light  colored  straight  hair  is  parted  in  the  centre  and  combed 
hack  behind  the  ears.  The  eyes  are  of  a  greyish  or  blueish 
tint,  and  rather  small.  The  nose  is  short,  and  the  mouth 
large — too  large  indeed  for  symmetry,  and  the  plump  cheeks 
are  whiskerless.  After  what  was  just  now  said,  the  reader 
will  be  prepared  for  a  double  chin,  a  considerable  amplitude 
of  waistcoat,  and  for  a  stomach  like  that  which  Shakspeare 
described  as  'capon  lined.'  Altogether,  on  surveying  the 
Doctor,  you  would  at  once  pronounce  him  to  be  '  something 
out  of  the  common,'  whilst  his  unaffected  and  offhand  manner 
would  convince  you  that  no  one  was  farther  removed  from  any 
thing  like  the  consciousness  thereof,  or  of  affectation  of  any 
kind,  than  himself. 

"  Dr.  Bethune's  oratory  is  chaste,  poetical  and  glowing.  A 
ripe  scholar,  his  sermons  are  always  models  of  style ;  and 
without  too  much  elaboration,  they  possess  exquisite  finish. 
Some  of  his  discourses  remind  us  of  a  polished  shaft  crowned 
with  its  graceful  capital  of  carved  acanthus  leaves,  symmetry, 
elegance,  and  firmness,  all  combining  to  form  a  perfect  whole. 
If  they  do  not  exhibit  the  profound  thought  that  characterizes 
the  sermons  of  a  Hall  or  a  Boardman,  they  exhibit  the  flowers 
of  oratory  in  all  their  beauty  and  glory.  His  command  of 
language  is  great, — he  at  times  displays  even  an  affluence  of 
diction,  and  an  opulence  of  imagery.  A  shrewd  observer  of 
men  and  manners,  he  is  fond  of  shooting  folly  as  it  flies,  and 
when  it  so  pleases  him  he  can  be  as  sarcastic  as  Randolph,  or 
as  sour  as  Burgess.  The  '  shams'  of  the  day  are  his  abhor 
rence,  and  he  fearlessly  attacks  them.  No  man  has  a  highe/ 


150  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

respect  for  the  *  powers  that  be,'  but  no  minister  '  holds  hia 
own'  so  independently,  or  with  more  dignity  sustains  his 
sacred  office.  His  descriptive  passages  remind  us  somewhat 
of  the  verbal  grandeurs  of  Croly,  the  author  of  '  The  Angel 
of  the  World,'  and  the  Rector  of  St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook, 
London.  The  last  time  I  heard  that  distinguished  English 
Divine,  his  subject  was  one  which  led  him  to  refer  incidentally 
to  the  splendors  of  Ancient  Nineveh,  the  city  whose  long- 
buried  glories  have  since  been  revealed  by  Layard.  Certainly 
such  a  magnificent  specimen  of  word-painting  I  never  before 
heard.  Listening  to  him  was  like  reading  scenes  from  his  own 
gorgeous,  eloquent  '  Salathiel,'  or  perusing  the  Apocalypse  by 
flashes  of  lightning !  With  a  marvellous  pomp  of  language 
he  described  the  glories  of  the  now  ruined  cities,  and  with 
amazing  fluency  heaped  splendor  on  splendor,  until,  as  the  eye 
grows  dazzled  by  gazing  on  the  changing  glories  of  a  tropic 
sunset,  when  clouds  of  amber  and  vermilion,  piled  on  each 
other,  assume  a  thousand  fantastic  shapes,  so  the  mind  became 
almost  overwhelmed  by  his  many  and  superb  illustrations. 
Thus  is  it  sometimes  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Bethune.  Occasionally 
he  over-colors  his  pulpit  pictures,  so  that  in  place,  as  it  were, 
of  the  delicious  harmony  of  a  Claude,  we  now  and  then  behold 
the  extravagant  gorgeousness  with  which  Turner  used  to  cover 
his  canvass. 

"  Dr.  Bethune  well  supports  the  dignity  of  the  pulpit.  He 
appears  to  feel  that  it  is  no  place  for  trumpery  show,  or  idle 
display.  He  commands  respect  as  well  by  his  manner  as  his 
He  uses  but  little  action,  and  that  is  always  graceful 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  151 

— as  graceful  indeed  as  it  can  be,  when  we  remember  that  he 
confines  himself  to  his  notes.  Did  he  preach  extemporaneously 
he  would  be  far  more  effective.  Alas !  for  written  discourses, 
what  they  gain  in  correctness  they  lose  in  warmth.  When 
will  ministers  fling  their  manuscripts  away  and  trust  to  the 
inspiration  of  the  moment?  There  is  to  me  something 
supremely  ridiculous  in  a  man's  clutching  the  leaves  of  his 
sermon  book  with  one  hand,  for  fear  he  should  lose  his  place, 
whilst  with  the  other  he  is  frantically  beating  empty  air !  It 
is  like  a  bird  with  a  lame  wing,  or  a  race  horse  with  a  fettered 
hoof.  I  question  whether  Wesley  or  Whitefield  would  have 
produced  a  tithe  of  the  effect  they  did,  had  they  read  their 
sermons.  It  is  a  pedantic,  mind-cramping,  inspiration-destroy 
ing  practice,  and  the  less  we  have  of  it  the  better.  For  my 
own  part,  I  would  rather  hear  the  humblest  preacher  '  out  of 
book,'  than  the  most  admired  minister  who  is  tied  to  his 
written  lines.  Some  folks  may  sneer  at  my  taste  perhaps — 
let  them.  I  do  not  of  course  advocate  unstudied  sermons, 
for  I  take  it  to  be  an  insult  to  any  congregation  for  a  minister 
to  go  into  the  pulpit  unprepared.  What  I  deprecate  is,  the 
dull,  dry  system  of  reading,  and  often  of  badly  reading,  a 
coldly  correct  composition — a  consequence  of  which  is,  that 
there  is  seldom  a  spark  of  genuine  feeling  elicited  from  the 
time  the  text  is  announced  until  a  final  '  Amen '  closes  the 
dreary  discourse. 

"  Dr.  Bethune  is  an  author.  Scattered  among  hymn  books 
and  annuals  we  find  some  very  charming  productions  from  his 
pen.  Griswold,  in  his  '  Poets  and  Poetry  of  America, 


152  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

assigns  to  him  a  niche  which  I  scarcely  know  whether  to  con 
sider  an  honor  or  otherwise.  For,  turning  over  the  leaves  of 
the  same  compilation,  I  noticed  the  other  day  that  from 
amongst  the  works  of  another  *  poet,'  of  America,  who  also 
has  a  place  given  him  in  this  walhalla  of  harmony,  the  Doctor 
had  extracted,  as  a  specimen  of  '  poetry/  a  strange  description 
of  a  captain,  who,  when  his  alarmed  passengers  were 

"  ' busy  at  their  prayers  ' 

in  the  cabin,  behaved  in  the  most  unseaman-like  way,  for  we 
are  told  that 

"  '  We  are  lost,'  the  captain  shouted, 
As  he  staggered  down  the  stairs !' 

"  Now  this  may  be  suggestive  of  drunkenness  and  piety,  but 
certainly  not  of  poetry ;  and  so  we  may  doubt  whether  to  be 
magnified  in  Griswold  is  any  great  compliment  after  all. 
Seriously,  though,  Dr.  Bethune  is,  if  not  a  great  bard,  a  very 
pleasing  poet  of  the  Alaric  A.  Watts  school,  and  to  prove  it 
we  here  insert  the  following  stanzas  : — 

TO  MY  WIFE. 

"  Away  from  thee  !  the  morning  breaks, 

But  morning  brings  no  joy  to  me  ; 
Alas  !  my  spirit  only  wakes 

To  know  that  I  am  afar  from  thee  ; 
In  dreams  I  saw  thy  blessed  face. 

And  thou  wert  nestled  on  my  breast ; 
In  dreams  I  felt  thy  fond  embrace, 

And  to  mine  own  thy  heart  was  pressed 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 

"  Afar  from  thee  !  'tis  solitude ! 

Though  smiling  crowds  around  me  be, 
The  kind,  the  beautiful,  the  good, 

For  I  can  only  think  of  thee ; 
Of  thee,  the  kindest,  loveliest,  best, 

My  earliest  and  my  only  one ; 
Without  thee,  I  am  all  unblest, 

And  wholly  blest  with  thee  alone. 

"  Afar  from  thee  !  the  words  of  praise 

My  listless  ear  unheeded  greet  j 
What  sweetest  seemed  in  better  days, 

Without  thee  seems  no  longer  sweet 
The  dearest  joy  fame  can  bestow, 

Is  in  thy  moistened  eye  to  see, 
And  in  thy  cheek's  unusual  glow, 

Thou  deem'st  me  not  unworthy  thee 

"  Afar  from  thee  !  the  night  is  come, 

But  slumbers  from  my  pillow  flee  ; 
Oh !  who  can  rest  so  far  from  home  ? 

And  my  heart's  home  is,  love,  wi 
I  kneel  me  down  in  silent  prayer, 

And  then,  I  know  that  thou  art  nigh ; 
For  God,  who  seest  everywhere, 

Bends  on  us  both  his  watchful  eye. 

"  Together  in  his  lov'd  embrace, 
No  distance  can  our  hearts  divide; 

Forgotten  quite  the  mediate  space, 
I  kneel  thy  kneeling  form  beside, 
1* 


104  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

My  tranquil  frame  then  sinks  to  sleep, 

But  soars  the  spirit  far  and  free ; 
Oh  !  welcome  be  night's  slumbers  deep, 

For  then,  sweet  love,  I  am  with  thee. 

"  Besides  poems,  Dr.  Bethune  has  made  some  valu  ^n- 
tributions  to  literature,  both  in  theological  and  scientific  paths. 
His  orations  and  occasional  discourses,  says  one  of  his  re 
viewers,  show  that  "  he  is  a  man  of  large  and  generous  views, 
uniting  to  the  attainments  of  the  scholar  a  profound  know 
ledge  of  mankind.  In  discourses  prepared  for  public  occasions, 
it  is  almost  impossible  that  allusions,  more  or  less  direct,  and 
more  or  less  connected  with  the  occasion — to  the  institutions, 
the  policy,  the  legislation  of  the  country,  and  the  duties  of  its 
citizens — should  not  often  occur.  Dr.  Bethune's  political 
philosophy  is  liberal  and  enlightened;  it  is  the  uncompro 
mising  application  of  Christian  morality  to  public  life,  and  there 
is  no  nobler  and  truer  political  philosophy  than  this.  One  of 
the  most  remarkable  discourses  in  this  volume  is  that  entitled 
4  The  Claims  of  our  Country  on  its  Literary  Men.'  We  could 
wish  that  it  might  be  read  attentively  by  all  those  in  our  coun 
try  who  devote  themselves  to  letters,  whether  in  the  retirement 
of  our  academic  institutions,  or  in  the  hours  snatched  from 
other  pursuits.  Its  wise  counsels  are  expressed  in  a  manly 
style,  and  sometimes  with  eloquence. 

"  The  Doctor  is  the  author  of  the  Introduction  to  Walton 
rind  Cotton's  Angler,  which  is  prefixed  to  the  best  American 
edition  of  that  charming  work,  and  few  are  able  to  "  whip 
the  water "  with  more  success  than  the  pastor  of  the  Dutch 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  155 

Reformed  Church  in  Brooklyn.  In  this  '  contemplativa 
man's  recreation,'  as  good  quaint  old  Izaak  hath  it,  he  is  not, 
j  in  my  opinion,  overstepping  the  proprieties  of  parson-hood, 
for  were  not  Peter  and  James  and  Simon  fishermen  ?  Some 
caviller  may  say — *  Aye,  but  they  were  piscatorial  for  a  living? 
No  matter,  we  think  Dr.  Bethune  may  preach  all  the  better 
for  an  occasional  ramble  by  the  running  brooks,  for  such 
souls  as  his  can  find  '  good  in  everything.'  Doubtless  he  has 
studied  many  a  sermon  with  rod  and  reel  in  hand,  and  quite 
as  useful  ones  as  if  they  had  been  painfully  composed  with 
some  of  the  musty  old  Fathers  on  one  side  of  him,  and  a  heap 
of  dusty  Commentators  on  the  other.  As  I  have  intimated, 
Dr.  Bethune  is  the  pastor  of  a  Dutch  Reformed  Church,  in 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  The  edifice  is  new  and  handsome,  and  the 
congregation  rather  fashionable,  I  believe,  but  of  such  matteri 
I  know  little  and  care  less." 


156  CRAYON   SKETCHES,   AND 


E.  P.  WHITTLE-. 

DURING  the  past  week  the  weather  has  been  summer-like. 
It  seemed  as  though  the  sky  stooped  down  to  clasp  the  earth 
in  its  blue  arms,  and  when  night  came  with  its  thousand  eyes, 
it  seemed  but  a  step  from  sod  to  star. 

Winter  paid  us  a  visit  to-day,  and  furnished  us  with  a 
pattern  of  the  white  dress  she  intends  to  wear  this  season. 
Owing  to  the  unwalkable  condition  of  the  streets,  and  the 
threatening  aspect  of  the  skies,  the  audience  was  not  so  large 
as  usual  at  the  Music  Hall.  By  the  time  the  first  comers  had 
devoured  the  contents  of  the  evening  papers,  E.  P.  Whipple, 
the  justly  celebrated  critic,  essayist,  and  lecturer,  made  his 
appearance.  I  had  often  seen  him  in  my  walks  about  the 
city,  and  wondered  who  he  was.  I  knew  by  his  step  and 
look,  that  he  was  no  ordinary  man. 

He  is  a  'short,  slender  person,  with  a  superbly  developed 
head,  a  white,  high,  broad  forehead,  smooth  brown  hair,  parted 
carefully  and  brushed  behind  his  ears,  large  star-like  eyes, 
flashing  with  magnetism,  a  thin,  pale,  sickly  face,  written  all 
over  with  thought-marks.  A  little  strip  of  white  collar 
turned  over  a  black  neck-cloth,  having  the  appearance  of  a 
large  snow  flake  fresh  from  the  clouds,  was  about  his  neck, 
the  black  neck-cloth  was  rounded  as  gracefully  as  one  of  his 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  15^ 

own  periods,  and  tied  as  handsomely  as  though  some  of  hia 
rhetoric  had  been  woven  into  silk  and  fastened  there.  Mr. 
Whipple  speaks  distinctly,  in  a  sharp,  nervous,  energetic 
manner,  with  a  graceful,  yet  monotonous  gesticulation, 
emphasizing  every  dozen  words  with  a  jerk  of  the  head  and 
a  swing  of  the  arm,  as  though  he  were  pumping  the  blood 
from  the  vitals  to  the  brain.  Indeed,  his  head  is  a  large 
reservoir  of  a  stream  of  vitals,  too  slender  to  supply  the 
demand  of  the  brain.  If  one  could  just  chop  off  Van  *  *  *  * 
head  (it  would  be  a  small  loss,  you  know),  and  put  Whipple's 
cranium  on  his  broad  shoulders,  under  his  great  heaving 
lungs,  there  would  be  animal  power  sufficient  to  work  the 
mental  mill,  which  at  present  has  too  much  machinery  to 
operate  well.  (It  would  be  necessary  to  change  hearts  also.) 
Then  how  his  voice  would  ring,  and  chime,  and  toll — start 
ling,  cheering,  and  aweing  his  hearers.  How  his  great  eyes 
would  flash  with  human  lightning.  How  he  would  wing  his 
thunder-bolts  with  electricity.  Now  his  weak  voice  staggers 
under  the  heavy  load  of  his  Titan  thoughts.  Now  his  white 
cheeks  cannot  call  sufficient  blood  from  his  heart  to  redden 
them  in  the  midst  of  a  storm  of  excitement.  He  thinks  too 
much,  and  acts  too  little.  Were  he  to  study  less  and  ramble 
more,  he  would  not  thus  offer  his  body  a  living  sacrifice  on 
the  altar  of  literature.  Let  him  exchange  Parnassus  for 
Wachusetts — the  Elysian  fields  of  belles  lettres  for  Boston 
Common,  the  fount  of  Helicon  for  Cochituate  Lake,  the 
society  of  the  Gods  for  the  society  of  Men,  he  would  enjoy 
better  health  and  have  a  stronger  body,  and  propelling  power 


158  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

enough  to  work  his  brain-miL  to  better  advantage.  Mr, 
Whipple  is  an  effective  writer,  an  honest  critic,  a  brilliant 
essayist.  Although  not  more  than  thirty  years  of  age,  he  has 
eaten  more  libraries  than  a  University  could  digest  in  one 
generation.  He  is  an  encyclopedia  individualized,  and  seems 
to  be  thoroughly  familiar  with  history,  science,  art,  agriculture, 
geology,  theology,  poetry,  and  almost  everything  else  desirable 
to  know.  This  evening  he  gave  us  a  splendid  lecture  on 
Heroism.  Were  I  to  give  you  its  beauties,  I  should  have  to 
quote  the  whole  of  it.  It  was  packed  full  of  meaning,  terse, 
vigorous,  classical,  and  original;  beautiful  in  language  and 
mighty  in  thought.  He  is  an  earnest  man — who  speaks  with 
the  authority  of  a  prophet,  and  labors  with  the  zeal  of  an 
Apostle.  He  says  Milton  was  a  hero,  who  plucked  out  his 
eyes  and  laid  them  on  the  altar  of  his  country's  weal.  So  I 
say  Whipple  is  a  hero,  who  tears  out  his  vitals  and  offers 
them  a  sacrifice  at  the  shrines  of  science. 

The  interest  enkindled  at  the  commencement  of  his  lecture 
is  constantly  kept  up  by  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  his 
images,  and  the  life-like  pictures  that  hang  up  on  the  walls 
of  his  memory.  We  see  Jupiter  nodding  on  the  summit  of 
Olympus.  Hercules  lifting  his  club.  Apollo  stringing  his 
bow.  Neptune  swaying  his  trident.  Bacchus  draining  his 
goblet,  and  Mammon  grasping  his  gold.  The  fictions  of 
mythology,  the  facts  in  history,  and  the  truths  of  religion,  are 
skilfully  employed  to  interest  and  inform  the  listener.  Mr 
Whipple  is  a  man  of  ardent  enthusiasm  and  vivid  imagination. 
He  has  a  keen  relish  for  the  elegancies  of  art,  and  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  150 

beauties  of  nature.  He  lias  a  ready  appreciation  of  the  pro 
prieties  of  language,  thought,  and  manners,  as  established  b} 
the  usages  of  society,  and  a  refined  sympathy  with  the  best 
sentiments  of  the  purest  intellects,  hence  he  is  a  critic.  He 
has  been  brought  up^  not  with  a  silver  spoon,  but  a  book  in 
his  mouth,  and  has;  acquired  such  a  command  of  the  best 
language,  he  is  able  to  give  us  "  thoughts  that  breathe,  in  words 
that  burn ;"  hence  he  is  a  lecturer. 

In  the  commencement  of  his  lecture,  he  gave  us  a  graphic 
sketch  of  the  sneak ;  he  then  defined  heroism,  and  afterwards 
described  the  hero  soldier,  the  hero  patriot,  the  hero  reformer 
and  the  hero  Christian.  If  the  enterprising  and  enlightened 
people  of  *  *  *  *  desire  to  hear  one  of  the  best  lectures  of 
the  season  from  the  faithful  lips  of  one  of  our  first  men,  let 
them  forthwith  secure  the  invaluable  services  of  Mr.  Whipple. 
I  have  the  impression  that  Mr.  W.  is  a  native  of  Massachusetts, 
of  humble  parentage,  and  that  he  is  self-taught.  When  quite 
young,  he  secured  a  situation  as  clerk  in  a  large  library, 
where  he  had  ample  opportunities  for  intellectual  culture.  At 
the  meeting,  I  noticed  an  unappreciating  goose  of  a  girl, 
directly  in  front  of  him,  who  had  the  bad  manners  to  open 
her  book  and  read  during  the  delivery  of  some  of  the  richest 
portions  of  the  lecture.  An  unappreciating  ass  of  a  man  also 
hissed  him  when  he  said  Louis  Napoleon  was  a  sneak  and  not 
a  hero.  One  dear  little  woman  was  so  pleased  she  laughed 
and  nodded  and  looked  from  side  to  side,  where  she  saw 
scores  of  sympathizers.  The  following  extracts  from  his 
lecture  will  give  an  idea  of  his  style : — 


160  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

"The  noblest  and  most  exhilarating  objects  the  human 
mind  could  contemplate  were,"  he  said,  "  those  which  exhibited 
the  mind  in  an  exalted  aspect.  Heroes  inspired  our  weakness 
with  the  energy  of  their  strength,  and  taught  us  to  feel  that 
we,  not  they,  were  unnatural;  that  nature,  obstructed  in 
common  men,  appeared  unchecked  in  them.  They  were  so 
filled  with  the  wine  of  life — they  had,  in  Fletcher's  phrase, 
*  so  much  of  man  thrust  into  them ' — that  they  appeared  in 
colossal  proportions.  Heroism  was  genius  in  action. 

"This  principle  was  no  sparkling  epigram  of  action,  but 
gradually  developed  itself  in  the  mind  until  it  rose  to  action. 
There  was  a  unity  between  the  will  and  the  intelligence  of  the 
Hero.  He  was  not  perched  upon  a  giddy  height  of  thought, 
but  stood  upon  the  table  of  human  character  and  action. 
Opposition  tended  but  to  call  out  the  qualities  of  his  courage, 
and  urged  him  on  through  all  impediments.  His  eye  ever 
had  the  impression  of  looking  into  the  distance.  No  fear  of 
death  disturbing  him  ;  it  was  lost  in  the  intensity  of  his  life. 

"  In  the  heroism  of  the  soldier,  glory  was  the  absorbing 
idea.  It  was  this  which  distinguished  the  man  from  the  brute 
in  the  bloody  field.  Glory  made  the  grim  battle-field  seem  as 
a  vision  of  youth  to  the  warrior's  eye.  In  such  men  as 
Bayard,  this  principle  of  glory  was  sublime;  in  men  like 
Napoleon  the  idea  degenerated  into  a  thirst  after  universal 
fame. 

"  The  Patriot  Hero  took  a  place  above  the  soldier.  He  was 
self  sacrificing,  elevated,  and  inspired  with  a  love  of  country 
that  made  death  sweet  in  her  service.  The  idea  and  senti 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  161 

ment  of  country  was  felt  in  his  heait,  and  dilated  his  indi 
viduality  to  the  size  of  the  national  individuality.  He 
regarded  every  wrong  to  his  country  as  a  wrong  to  himself. 

"  The  Reformer  felt  the  full  force  of  the  responsibility  that 
rested  upon  him,  when  the  seed  of  reformation  was  dropped 
into  his  heart  to  be  nurtured  into  action.  Many  were  tho 
obstacles  against  which  he  has  to  contend  ;  and  not  least  the 
accusations  of  those  whom  he  was  sacrificing  himself  to 
benefit.  Heroism,"  continued  the  lecturer,  "  was  distinguished 
by  a  principle  positive  of  love — not  of  negative  hate.  They 
might  be  soldiers,  patriots  and  reformers,  but  not  Heroic, 
except  by  a  principle  of  love.  It  was  love  of  his  own  country, 
not  hatred  of  any  other,  which  made  the  heroic  patriot ;  nor 
was  it  fear  or  hate  of  hell,  but  love  of  God,  which  made 
the  heroic  saint.  This  latter  was  the  highest  degree 
of  heroism,  but  yet  it  was  a  kind  of  heroism  not  eagerly 
coveted  nor  zealously  approved.  The  patriot  of  the  Heavenly 
Kingdom  was  the  true  pilgrim.  The  still,  deep  ecstasy 
which  imparadised  his  spirit,  could  but  ill  describe  itself 
in  words.  Its  full  power  could  only  be  seen  in  the  vir 
tues  which  it  created ;  in  the  triumphant  faith  which  defied 
the  pains  of  the  rack,  and  lifted  the  spirit  above  the  world. 
He  regretted  his  deficiencies,  in  trying  to  paint  the  character 
of  Heroism  for  them.  From  a  consideration  of  its  records 
they  would  rise,  not  as  from  memories  of  the  past,  but  living 
forces  of  the  present,  which  would  graft  upon  the  mind  ita 
deathless  energies." 


162  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 


G.   C.   HEBBE. 

DURING  my  short  stay  at  the  city  of  Washington,  I  availed 
myself  of  an  opportunity,  afforded  by  a  letter  of  introduction, 
to  call  and  see  the  renowned  Dr.  G.  C.  Hebbe.  He  is  so  well 
known  at  the  capitol  of  our  country,  I  found  little  difficulty 
in  ascertaining  his  whereabouts.  After  threading  my  way  as 
best  I  could  through  the  crowd  that  occupied  the  spacious 
sidewalks  (for  I  happened  to  hit  upon  a  time  when  multitudes 
were  hungering  after  the  loaves  and  fishes  of  office),  I 
ascended  a  flight  of  stone  steps  in  front  of  a  private  house, 
and  pulled  the  bell,  which  brought  an  immediate  response. 

"  Does  Dr.  Hebbe  board  here  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  He  does,"  was  the  reply  from  a  modest  waiting  maid. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  this  letter  presented  to  him." 

"Walk  in,  sir,  if  you  please,"  said  the  servant,  and 
hastened  to  the  apartment  occupied  by  the  author  it  is  my 
intention  to  sketch.  In  a  few  moments  came  a  request  for  the 
writer  to  visit  him  in  his  study.  I  met  him  at  the  door, 
where  he  gave  me  a  cordial  greeting,  free  from  affectation,  and 
full  of  that  heartiness  which  is  one  of  his  peculiar  character 
istics.  After  announcing  the  object  of  my  visit,  he  very 
generously  volunteered  to  render  any  assistance  in  his  power, 
He  had  the  kindness  to  offer  me  letters  of  introduction  to 


aved"by  J  C  Buttre 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  103 

several  of  the  United  States  senators,  with  whom  he  was  per 
sonally  and  intimately  acquainted.  I  found  him,  on  my 
second  visit,  buried  in  books,  working  vigorously  at  something 
for  his  publishers,  De  Witt  &  Davenport. 

The  Doctor's  study  is  not  a  dusty  garret,  like  those  honored 
by  some  of  our  most  celebrated  writers  of  prose  and  poetry ; 
but  a  spacious,  airy,  neatly  furnished  apartment,  commanding 
tt  fine  view  from  its  windows. 

The  distinguished  occupant  of  this  apartment  is  a  vigorous 
and  classical  writer,  whose  magical  pen  has  multiplied  friends 
to  his  party.  Having  had  the  advantage,  in  early  youth,  of 
the  best  schools  and  universities  in  the  old  world,  and  having 
further  improved  his  mind  by  travel  and  intercourse  with 
many  of  the  first  and  best  men  in  Europe,  we  need  not  be  at 
all  surprised  that  his  fluent  pen  created  the  sensation  it  did, 
when  he  wrote  his  political  pamphlets  ;  neither  is  it  a  matter 
of  surprise,  that  when  expatriated  to  this  country,  he  at  once 
was  welcomed  by  the  ablest  writers  of  America,  for  his  fame 
and  his  works  had  preceded  him.  Perhaps,  no  man  in  this 
country  is  so  thoroughly  familiar  with  ancient  and  modern 
history — certainly,  no  man  in  the  United  States  has  written  so 
voluminously  as  he,  on  the  intensely  interesting  subject  of  Uni 
versal  History.  He  is  a  profound  philosopher,  a  deep  thinker, 
a  cogent  reasoner,  a  caustic  antagonist,  and  a  never-tiring 
student.  He  never  twangs  his  bow  without  piercing  the  mark 
with  his  arrow,  which  though  sharp,  is  never  pointed  with 
poison. 

In  person,  he  is  tall,  well  proportioned ;  has  a  fresh,  healthy 


164  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

face  (ladies  pronounce  him  handsome) ;  dark  hair ;  lofty 
forehead ;  dark,  dreamy  eyes,  which  light  up  in  conversation. 
He  speaks  and  writes  our  language  much  better  than  a 
majority  of  even  our  literary  men.  The  following  letter  which 
was  written  by  a  friend,  gives  a  condensed  and  graphic 
sketch  of  the  life  of  this  noted  man,  and  with  it  I  close 
this  "  taking." 

"  Dr.  Hebbe's  family  is  originally  from  Bohemia ;  where 
one  of  its  members  received  a  large  landed  estate,  together 
with  the  title  of  Baron,  in  the  tenth  century,  from  the 
emperor,  Henry  the  Fowler,  on  account  of  great  military 
services  in  the  war  against  the  Magyars.  In  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  family  of  Hebbe  adopted  the  Protestant  religion, 
and  suffered  terribly  during  the  following  century  from  the 
persecution  of  the  Catholics.  Thirteen  of  its  members  lost 
their  life  by  the  sword  and  the  axe,  and  only  two  were  saved ; 
one  of  whom  rose  to  high  military  dignity  in  France.  The 
other  again  entered  the  Swedish  army,  and  was  badly 
wounded  in  the  battle  of  Lutzen.  He  came  then  to  Sweden, 
where  he  bought  large  estates — having  become  very  wealthy 
by  his  marriage  with  a  Dutch  lady,  of  immense  riches.  He 
had  several  children,  all  of  whom  became  distinguished  by 
high  positions  and  wealth,  as  well  as  by  noble  traits  of 
character. 

"  Dr.  Hebbe's  grandfather  married  a  Grecian  lady  of  wonder 
ful  beauty,  whose  only  daughter  became  afterwards,  grand 
governess  of  the  children  of  the  unfortunate  king,  Gustavus 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  1C5 

Adolphus  IV.,  of  Sweden.  His  father  distinguished  himself 
in  the  service  of  France — was  severely  wounded;  married 
an  Italian  lady,  and  was  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  most 
learned  men  of  Europe. 

"  Dr.  Hebbe  received  a  most  accomplished  education,  and 
graduated  with  the  greatest  distinction  at  the  celebrated 
University  of  Upsala,  in  Sweden,  arid  became  soon  known  as 
one  of  the  most  liberal  minded  men  of  his  country.  He 
visited  many  parts  of  the  Orient  world,  and  became,  in  a  few 
years,  known  as  the  author  of  many  of  the  most  powerful 
political  articles  in  several  continental  papers.  He  had, 
meanwhile,  married  a  young  lady  of  much  genius  and  extra 
ordinary  mental  abilities — and  discharged,  several  times,  the 
honorable  duties  of  a  judge,  and  became  very  popular.  He 
was  an  intimate  friend  of  the  chief  leaders  of  the  opposition 
at  the  Swedish  Diet,  and  was  the  chief  instrument  in  defeat 
ing  the  attempt  of  the  king  to  extend  his  royal  prerogatives. 
His  administrative  qualities  recommended  him,  however,  to 
the  attention  of  the  king,  who  offered  him  the  management 
of  all  his  private  affairs  and  his  immense  landed  property ; 
but  this  offer  was  most  respectfully  declined  by  Dr.,  or  rather, 
Judge  Hebbe,  who  was  soon  found  to  be  one  of  the  leaders 
in  the  revolutionary  movement,  which  took  place  in  1838, 
and  which  led  to  the  imprisonment  of  Judge  Cresenstolpe 
and  some  other  of  the  leaders,  and  the  exile  of  Judge  Hebbe 
and  some  others. 

"In  1843,  Dr.  Hebbe  arrived  in  this  country,  where  he 
soon  became  distinguished  as  the  ablest  political  writer,  in  that 


166  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

then  widely  circulating  periodical,  called  the  'New  World,'  and 
as  author  of  several  political  pamphlets,  and  as  the  accom 
plished  translator  of  many  of  the  finest  works  of  fiction 
of  the  day.  In  1848,  he  began  the  publication  of  his  great 
*  Universal  History,'  which  has  stamped  him  as  a  man  of  the 
most  profound  learning,  the  deepest  philosophical  mind,  and 
the  highest  order  of  literary  genius.  This  work  will  embrace 
twenty  volumes,  and  has  already  cost  its  eloquent  and  high- 
minded  author  more  than  fifteen  years  of  incredible  labor. 

"  Dr.  Hebbe  is  one  of  the  ablest  Democratic  leaders,  and  it 
is  generally  conceded  that  he  did  more  than  any  other  man 
for  the  triumphant  election  of  Mr.  Pierce.  He  numbers,  per 
haps,  more  warmly  attached  friends  than  any  other  man  in 
this  country;  thanks  to  his  affable  manners  and  swest 
temper." 


OFF-HAND  VTAKINGS. 


RUFUS  CHOATE. 

RUFUS  CHOATE  is  the  Brougham  of  the  Western  World. 
He  is  not  so  profound  a  metaphysician  nor  so  great  a  philoso 
pher  as  the  English  Lord;  but  he  is  equally  eloquent,  and 
there  is  more  lightning  in  his  oratory.  When  he  speaks,  his 
black  eyes  glow  with  electricity,  his  hair  stands  erect,  as  though 
his  head  were  a  galvanic  battery,  charging  each  individual 
hair  with  the  subtile  fluid.  He  is  furious  as  a  madman  in  his 
gestures,  and  not  unfrequently  tears  his  coat  from  the  collar  to 
the  waist,  when  he  becomes  intensely  excited.  He  walks  from 
one  end  of  the  platform  to  the  other,  and  swings  his  arms 
backwards  and  forwards  as  though  he  intended  to  take  a  leap 
into  the  middle  of  the  room  and  land  upon  the  heads  of  his 
hearers.  If  he  ever  should  take  a  hop,  step,  and  jump,  in  the 
midst  of  one  of  his  orations,  there  would  be  danger  of  his 
tumbling  down  the  throats  of  some  of  the  gaping  multitude, 
whose  mouths  are  ever  open  to  swallow  every  syllable  ho 
utters.  No  wonder  the  people  gape  and  gaze  with  such  as 
tonishment  and  admiration,  for  he  has  such  a  beautiful  gallery 
of  pictures  in  the  chambers  of  his  imagination — such  an 
affluence  of  language — so  retentive  a  memory — such  varied 
learning — such  luminous  eloquence  and  so  eccentric  a  manner 
of  delivery.  Often,  when  he  finishes  a  period  in  his  most  ener 
getic  style,  the  listener  involuntarily  looks  up  to  see  if  the  fiery 
bolt  just  launched  from  his  lips,  has  not  raised  the  roof,  or  at 


168  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

least  gone  through  the  ceiling.  It  is  as  difficult  to  report  his 
speeches,  as  it  would  be  to  report  the  trumpetings  of  the 
storm,  with  the  moaning  wind,  the  pattering  rain,  the  vivid 
lightnings  and  the  crashing  of  the  thunders.  He  begins  like 
an  eagle  soaring  from  his  eyrie,  and  continues  his  upward 
flight  over  the  mountain  tops,  up  higher  and  still  higher,  and 
higher  still,  with  the  clouds  under  his  feet  and  a  crown  of 

o  " 

stars  about  his  head ;  and  when  he  descends,  he  shines  like 
Moses  coming  down  from  the  mountain,  and  like  him,  he 
breaks  the  Commandments  when  he  finds  the  people  worship 
ping  the  idol  of  another  party.  You  may  talk  about  torrents 
of  eloquence — he  is  the  very  Niagara  of  eloquence,  with  the 
silver  spray,  the  effulgent  bow,  and  the  wasteless  waters  foam 
ing  and  flashing  through  a  narrow  channel  of  rocks.  His 
speeches  are  brilliant  with  unmeasured  poetry,  and  abound 
in  attic  wit,  biting  invective,  glowing  rhetoric,  and  "  logic  on 
fire."  "  He  can  hew  out  a  Colossus  from  a  rock,  or  carve  heads 
on  cherry  stones."  He  is  not  a  glancing  stream,  fettered  with 
ice  half  the  year ;  but  a  magnificent  and  mighty  river,  run 
ning  South ;  and  as  he  sweeps  on,  he  swallows  up  allusions, 
quotations,  figures,  from  Hesiod,  and  Homer,  and  Virgil,  and 
Voltaire,  and  Shakspeare,  and  Milton,  and  Washington  and 
Webster,  still  flowing  on, 

"  Like  to  the  Pontic  Sea, 
Whose  current  and  compulsive  course 
Never  feels  retiring  ebb,  but  keeps  right  on 
To  the  Propontic  and  the  Hellespont." 

To  drop  the  figure  and  take  up  the  fact,  he  has  intensity  of 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  169 

purpose,  and  often  allows  his  impulsiveness  to  control  his 
judgment.  Every  great  effort  he  makes  at  the  Bar  or  on  the 
rostrum,  so  excites  his  nervous  system,  that  he  cannot  sleep 
sufficiently  to  satisfy  the  wants  of  his  physical  nature.  But 
he  is  fond  of  fame  and  of  money,  and  seems  determined  to 
keep  up  his  reputation  and  his  revenue ;  consequently,  his 
services  are  available  when  fair  opportunities  are  afforded  for 
the  improvement  of  either.  Yet  he  is  not  a  mercenary  man ; 
for,  notwithstanding  his  vast  practice,  he  has  not  secured 
a  great  fortune.  His  speeches  sound  better  than  they  read. 
Indeed,  it  would  not  be  gratifying  to  the  vanity  of  him 
self  or  his  numerous  friends  to  pass  his  extemporaneous 
speeches  through  the  crucible  of  criticism.  He  skips  from  one 
topic  to  another  with  the  agility  of  a  squirrel,  a  fact  unnoticed 
amid  the  blaze  of  his  surpassing  eloquence,  until  the  storm 
has  passed  by  and  the  fever  is  over,  and  then  we  behold  the 
best  a  reporter  can  do  in  the  columns  of  the  newspaper. 

Mr.  Choate  is  a  dark  complexioned,  thin,  cadaverous  look 
ing  man,  with  keen  black  eyes,  and  a  profusion  of  unkempt 
hair,  of  a  glossy  black  hue.  He  is  between  forty  and  fifty 
years  of  age,  and  of  a  nervous  bilious  temperament.  He  is 
a  conservative  Whig  of  the  Webster  school,  and  has  made 
eloquent  speeches  recently  upon  the  leading  political  questions 
of  the  day.  Mr.  Choate  is  one  of  the  most  popular  orators 
of  modern  times.  We  have  abler  lawyers  in  America,  but 
the  Bar  has  not  a  more  brilliant  and  successful  advocate, 
We  have  more  experienced  statesmen,  but  few  serve  their 
country  with  more  fervid  zeal.  It  is  indeed  a  rich  treat  to 

8 


170  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

listen  to  the  gorgeous  words  which  drop  from  his  lips  like 
apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver. 

We  subjoin  a  specimen  of  his  style  of  oratory,  taken  from 
a  discourse,  delivered  before  the  Faculty,  Students,  and 
Alumni  of  Dartmouth  College,  on  the  day  preceding  Com 
mencement,  July  27th,  1853,  commemorative  of  Daniel 
Webster. 

RUFUS    CHOATE    ON    DANIEL    WEBSTER. 

"  IT  would  be  a  strange  neglect  of  a  beautiful  and  approved 
custom  of  the  schools  of  learning,  and  of  one  of  the  most 
pious  and  appropriate  of  the  offices  of  literature,  if  the  col 
lege  in  which  the  intellectual  life  of  Daniel  Webster  began, 
and  to  which  his  name  imparts  charm  and  illustration,  should 
give  no  formal  expression  to  her  grief  in  the  common  sorrow  ;  if 
she  should  not  draw  near,  one  of  the  most  sad,  in  the  procession 
of  the  bereaved,  to  the  tomb  at  the  sea,  nor  find,  in  her  classic 
shades,  one  affectionate  and  grateful  leaf  to  set  in  the  garland 
with  which  they  have  bound  the  brow  of  her  child,  the 
mightiest  departed.  Others  mourn  and  praise  him  by  his 
more  distant  and  more  general  titles  to  fame  and  remem 
brance  ;  his  supremacy  of  intellect,  his  statesmanship  of  so 
many  years,  his  eloquence  of  reason  and  of  the  heart,  his  love 
of  country,  incorruptible,  conscientious,  and  ruling  every  hour 
and  act;  that  greatness  combined  of  genius,  of  character, 
of  manner,  of  place,  of  achievement,  which  was  just  now 
among  us,  and  is  not,  and  yet  lives  still  and  evermore.  You 
come,  his  cherishing  mother,  to  own  a  closer  tie,  to  indulge 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  17 1 

an  emotion  more  personal  and  more  fond — grief  and  exulta 
tion  contending  for  mastery,  as  in  the  bosom  of  the  desolated 
parent,  whose  tears  could  not  hinder  him  from  exclaiming. 
'  I  would  not  exchange  my  dead  son  for  any  living  one  of 
Christendom.' 

*»*-:* 

';  '  With  prospects  bright,  upon  the  world  he  came— 
Pure  love  of  virtue,  strong  desire  of  fame; 
Men  watched  the  way  his  lofty  mind  would  take. 
And  all  foretold  the  progress  he  would  make.' 

"  And  yet,  if  on  some  day  as  that  season  was  drawing  to 
its  close,  it  had  been  foretold  to  him,  that  before  his  life — 
prolonged  to  little  more  than  threescore  years  and  ten — 
should  end,  he  should  see  that  country,  in  which  he  was 
coming  to  act  his  part,  expanded  across  a  continent;  the 
thirteen  states  of  1801  multiplied  to  thirty-one;  the  territory 
of  the  Northwest  and  the  great  valley  below  sown  full  of  those 
stars  of  empire ;  the  Mississippi  forded,  and  the  Sabine,  and 
Rio  Grande,  and  the  Nueces;  the  ponderous  gates  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  opened  to  shut  no  more ;  the  great  tranquil 
sea  become  our  sea ;  her  area  seven  times  larger,  her  people 
five  times  more  in  number ;  that  through  all  experiences  of 
trial,  the  madness  of  party,  the  injustice  of  foreign  powers, 
the  vast  enlargement  of  her  borders,  the  antagonisms  of  inte 
rior  interest  and  feeling — the  spirit  of  nationality  would  grow 
stronger  still  and  more  plastic;  that  the  tide  of  American 
feeling  would  run  ever  fuller;  that  her  agriculture  would 
grow  more  scientific ;  her  arts  more  various  and  instructed, 


172  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

and  better  rewarded ;  her  commerce  winged  to  a  wider  and 
still  wider  flight ;  that  the  part  she  would  play  in  human 
affairs  would  grow  nobler  ever,  and  more  recognised  ;  that  in 
this  vast  growth  of  national  greatness  time  would  be  found 
for  the  higher  necessities  of  the  soul ;  that  her  popular  and 
her  higher  education  would  go  on  advancing;  that  her 
charities  and  all  her  enterprises  of  philanthropy  would  go  on 
enlarging ;  that  her  age  of  lettered  glory  would  find  its  aus 
picious  dawn :  and  then  it  had  been  also  foretold  him  that  even 
so,  with  her  grace  and  strength,  should  his  fame  grow  and  be 
established  and  cherished,  there  where  she  should  garner  up 
her  heart ;  that  by  long  gradations  of  service  and  labor  ho 
should  rise  to  be,  before  he  should  taste  of  death,  of  the  peer 
less  among  her  great  ones ;  that  he  should  win  the  double 
honor,  and  wear  the  double  wreath  of  professional  and  public 
supremacy ;  that  he  should  become  her  wisest  to  counsel  and 
her  most  eloquent  to  persuade ;  that  he  should  come  to  be 
called  the  Defender  of  the  Constitution  and  the  preserver  of 
honorable  peace ;  that  the  '  austere  glory  of  suffering '  to  save 
the  Union  should  be  his ;  that  his  death,  at  the  summit  of 
greatness,  on  the  verge  of  a  ripe  and  venerable  age,  should  be 
distinguished,  less  by  the  flags  at  half-mast  on  ocean  and  lake, 
less  by  the  minute-gun,  less  by  the  public  procession,  and  the 
appointed  eulogy,  than  by  the  sudden  paleness  overspreading 
all  faces,  by  gushing  tears,  by  sorrow,  thoughtful,  boding, 
silent,  the  sense  of  desolateness,  as  if  renown  and  grace  were 
dead ;  as  if  the  hunter's  path,  and  the  sailor's  in  the  great 
solitude  of  wilderness  or  sea,  henceforward  were  more  lonely 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  173 

and  less  safe  than  before ;  had  this  prediction  been  whispered, 
how  calmly  had  that  perfect  sobriety  of  mind  put  it  all  aside 
as  a  pernicious  or  idle  dream !  Yet,  in  the  fulfilment  of  that 
prediction  is  told  the  remaining  story  of  his  life. 

***** 
"  But  it  is  time  that  the  eulogy  was  spoken.  My  heart 
goes  back  into  the  coffin  there  with  him,  and  I  would  pause, 
I  went,  it  is  a  day  or  two  since,  alone,  to  see  again  the  home 
which  he  so  dearly  loved,  the  chamber  where  he  died,  the 
grave  in  which  they  laid  him,  all  habited  as  when 

'  His  look  drew  audience  still  as  night, 
Or  summer's  noontide  air,' 

till  the  heavens  be  no  more.  Throughout  that  spacious  and 
calm  scene  all  things  to  the  eye  showed  at  first  unchanged. 
The  books  in  the  library,  the  portraits,  the  table  at  which  he 
wrote,  the  scientific  culture  of  the  land,  the  course  of  agricul 
tural  occupation,  the  coming  in  of  harvests,  fruit  of  the  seed 
his  own  hand  had  scattered,  the  animals  and  implements  of 
husbandry,  the  trees  planted  by  him  in  lines,  in  copses,  in 
orchards,  by  thousands,  the  seat  under  the  noble  elm  on  which 
he  used  to  sit  to  feel  the  southwest  wind  at  evening,  or  hear 
the  breathings  of  the  sea,  or  the  not  less  audible  music  of  the 
starry  heavens,  all  seemed  at  first  unchanged.  The  sun  of  a 
bright  day,  from  which,  however,  something  of  the  fervors  of 
mid-summer  were  wanting,  fell  temperately  on  them  all,  filled 
the  air  on  all  sides  with  the  utterances  of  life,  and  gleamed 
on  the  long  line  of  ocean.  Some  of  those  whom  on  earth  he 


174  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

loved  best,  still  were  there.  The  great  mind  still  seemed  to 
preside ;  the  great  presence  to  be  with  you.  You  might 
expect  to  hear  again  the  rich  and  playful  tones  of  the  voice 
of  the  old  hospitality.  Yet  a  moment  more,  and  all  the 
scene  took  on  the  aspect  of  one  great  monument,  inscribed 
with  his  name,  and  sacred  to  his  memory.  And  such  it  shall 
be  in  all  the  future  of  America  !  The  sensation  of  desolate- 
ness,  and  loneliness,  and  darkness  with  which  you  see  it  now 
will  pass  away ;  the  sharp  grief  of  love  and  friendship  will 
become  soothed ;  men  will  repair  thither,  as  they  are  wont  to 
commemorate  the  great  days  of  history ;  the  same  glance 
shall  take  in,  and  the  same  emotions  shall  greet  and  bless  the 
Harbor  of  the  Pilgrims  and  the  Tomb  of  Webster." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


HORACE  MANN. 

THE  name  and  fame  of  the  distinguished  subject  of  this 
sketch  are  world-wide.  He  is  known,  honored,  and  appre 
ciated  as  the  promoter  of  education  and  the  defender  of  the 
oppressed.  The  mantle  dropped  by  the  lamented  Adams  sits 
gracefully  upon  his  shoulders.  He  is  eminent  as  a  writer,  a 
speaker,  a  scholar,  and  a  statesman.  His  essays  and  his 
speeches  command  the  attention  and  win  the  admiration  of 
all  who  read  or  hear  them.  He  never  fails  to  get  the  eyes 
and  ears,  if  not  the  hearts,  of  his  hearers,  whether  they  be 
little  children  in  a  common  school,  or  larger  ones  in  Congress. 
He  is  a  prophet  who  hath  honor  in  his  own  and  other  coun 
tries.  The  first  time  the  writer  saw  him,  was  at  the  opening 
of  a  primary  school  in  Boston.  Several  prominent  men  had 
spoken  to  the  children  present,  in  unintelligible  language ;  in 
fact,  they  spoke  to  the  youths  as  they  were  accustomed  to 
speak  to  adults.  By-and-by,  a  tall,  thin,  graceful  man,  with  a 
high  forehead  and  silvery  hair,  arose  in  one  corner  of  the 
room,  and  in  a  familiar  manner  asked  the  children  to  let  him 
see  their  red  lips  and  bright  eyes.  In  a  moment  a  sea  of 
sunny  faces  was  turned  toward  him.  He  told  them  to  perse 
vere  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  asked  them  if  they 
ever  saw  a  honey-bee  go  out  from  its  hive  on  a  May  morning 
in  pursuit  of  its  sweets.  They  said  they  had  seen  the  bee  on 
his  tour  among  the  flowers.  "  Now,"  continued  the  speaker, 


176  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    ANE 

"  when  he  comes  from  the  leaves  he  does  not  bring  a  whole 
hive  on  his  back,  but  he  flies  home  with  a  little  at  a  time. 
You  must  copy  the  example  of  the  bees,  and  gather  the 
sweets  of  knowledge  from  book  leaves,  as  they  gather  honey 
from  flower  leaves."  The  children  were  intensely  interested 
in  his  stories,  comparisons,  allusions,  and  admonitions. 

The  next  time  I  saw  this  prominent  and  popular  MANN,  was 
at  the  dedication  of  a  grammar  school  in  Boston.  Many  of 
the  first  citizens  were  present,  and  listened  with  delight  to  his 
extemporaneous  and  appropriate  speech.  His  tongue  is  like 
the  pen  of  a  ready  writer.  It  costs  him  little  or  no  effort  to 
round  a  period  handsomely,  or  polish  a  sentence  until  it 
becomes  transparent  with  beauty,  and  as  for  grammatical 
inaccuracies,  even  in  his  impromptu  efforts,  they  are  out  of 
the  question.  Last  winter  he  delivered  the  introductory  lec 
ture  before  the  Mercantile  Library  Association.  Tremont 
Temple  was  packed,  from  the  orchestra  to  the  entrance. 
Many  persons  were  obliged  to  leave  the  crowded  doors  for 
want  of  accommodation.  After  the  usual  preliminaries,  the 
orator  appeared  on  the  platform  and  was  warmly  greeted  by 
the  vast  audience.  He  commenced  at  once  by  leaping,  at  a 
single  bound,  into  the  middle  of  his  lecture,  and  he  addressed 
the  young  merchants  in  a  strain  of  surpassing  power  and  elo 
quence.  The  last  survivor  of  that  large  assembly  cannot 
outlive  the  impression  that  masterly  effort  made  on  every 
appreciating  mind.  He  spoke  forcibly,  rapidly,  emphatically. 
Wit,  humor,  pathos,  irony,  argument,  flowed  from  his  lips  as 
freely  as  water  from  an  unfailing  fountain.  Those  who  carry 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  177 

their  souls  in  the  sacks  of  their  stomachs,  and  those  who  carry 
their  hearts  in  their  breeches-pockets,  were  shown  up  as  Mar 
shal  Tu&ey  exhibits  the  light-fingered  gentlemen  who  some 
times  visit  the  City  of  Notions.  He  did  not  spare  the  wine- 
bottle  nor  the  tobacco-box,  the  coffee-pot  nor  the  tea-kettle. 
He  pronounced  woes  against  those  who  will  not  breathe  pure 
air,  and  drink  cold  water,  and  eat  plain  food,  and  sleep  on 
hard  beds  in  ventilated  rooms.  He  has  a  stout  heart  and  a 
strong  hand,  and  the  whip  he  holds  over  the  backs  of  glut' 
tons  and  imbibers  has  a  silver  lash  and  a  golden  handle,  and 
although  every  blow  reaches  the  red,  the  wounded  and  the 
whipped  save  their  lamentations  for  the  secret  chamber  where 
they  sit  upon  the  stool  of  repentance. 

If  it  be  true  that  New  England  is  farther  from  perdition 
and  nearer  paradise  than  any  other  portion  of  America,  it  is 
owing  to  the  superiority  of  her  public  schools.  Horace  Mann 
has  done  more  than  any  other  person  to  elevate  the  educa 
tional  advantages  of  New  England.  His  praise  is  in  all  the 
schools.  His  system  of  instruction  is  almost  universally 
adopted.  The  moral  atmosphere  of  Washington  is  sure  to 
spoil  the  principles  of  some  men  whom  the  multitude  delight 
to  honor.  Not  so  with  Horace  Mann.  He  does  not  wear  a 
double  face.  He  does  not  blow  hot  and  cold  in  the  same 
breaj1?  -  He  does  not  amend,  abridge,  or  alter  his  speeches  to 
suit  the  latitude  in  which  he  lives.  Even  the  Hercules  of  the 
senate,  the  mighty  Expounder  of  the  Constitution,  has  felt  the 
weight  of  his  arm,  and  staggered  under  the  force  of  his  blow 
Horace  Mann  not  only  goes  for  free  soil  and  free  men,  but  foi 

8* 


1^8  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

free  air  and  the  free  use  of  cold  water.  He  is  liberal-minded; 
generous-hearted,  dignified  in  his  deportment,  genteel  in  his 
address,  and  his  character  is  like  Caesar's  wife,  above  suspicion. 
He  is  not  only  admired,  but  really  beloved,  by  his  friends, 
acquaintances,  and  constituents. 

He  has  a  classical  face  and  forehead..  The  organ  of 
benevolence  is  prominently  developed,  as  are  the  organs  of 
causality,  comparison,  ideality,  and  sublimity.  He  is  a  poet, 
although  he  may  not  have  exhibited  any  symptoms  of  that 
sort  in  rhyme.  In  his  happiest  efforts  before  an  audience,  he 
often  leads  them  high  up  the  mountain  so  that  they  may  see 
the  promised  land  where  the  nations  shall  dwell  in  the  good 
time  coming. 

Mr.  Mann  is  a  cogent  reasoner,  a  deep  thinker,  a  ready 
debater,  an  elegant  writer,  a  splendid  speaker.  There  is  a  lit 
tle  lisping  impediment  on  his  tongue  until  he  becomes  excited. 
Anti-progress  men  cannot  bribe  him,  nor  scare  him,  nor  gag 
him,  nor  cope  with  him  at  the  press,  or  in  the  forum.  He  is 
remarkable  for  his  originality,  and  his  ideas  are  like  pictures 
painted  on  glass,  by  those  ancients  who  had  the  art,  now  lost, 
of  making  the  colors  penetrate  the  surface  so  that  the  object 
appeared  as  vividly  on  one  side  as  the  other.  He  may  be 
called  a  "proverbial  philosopher,"  a  prose  poet,  a  sayer  as 
well  as  a  doer  of  good  things.  Some  of  the  "  old  liners  "  in 
literature  and  theology,  do  not  approve  his  liberal  sentiments. 
They  have  not  the  courage  to  assail  him  openly,  but  they 
damn  him  with  faint  praise  in  private  circles.  He  is  apt  to 
indulge  a  taste  for  alliteration.  It  is  almost  the  only  blemish 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  179 

in  his  essays  and  speeches.  There  is  no  man  in  New  England 
so  well  qualified  in  every  respect  to  occupy  the  post  of  honoi 
and  duty  rendered  vacant  by  the  death  of  John  Quincy 
Adams,  as  he. 

Mrs.  Jane  Swisshelm  has  the  following  in  one  of  her  inirm 
table  sketches : — 

HON.   HORACE   MANN. 

"  The  people  of  the  district  of  the  '  old  man  eloquent '  cer 
tainly  did  a  very  becoming  thing  when  they  sent  Horace 
Mann  to  take  his  place  in  the  House  of  Representatives. 
One  does  not  feel  that  he,  or  any  other  man,  can  Jill  the  place 
of  John  Quincy  Adams ;  but  in  looking  at  Horace  Mann,  we 
felt  it  was  becomingly  occupied.  In  the  general  characteris 
tics  of  personal  appearance,  he  is  strikingly  like  our  neighbor, 
Hon.  William  Wilkins — tall,  erect,  and  thin,  with  hair  of  that 
singular  whiteness  which  shows  the  premature  bleaching  of 
care  or  sorrow.  It  is  said  that  his  hair  turned  thus  in  twenty- 
four  hours  after  the  death  of  his  wife.  He  afterwards  married 
Miss  Peabody,  a  sister  to  the  wife  of  Hawthorne,  author  of 
the  '  Scarlet  Letter.'  His  movements  show  a  large  amount  of 
muscular  energy  and  activity,  but  the  most  remarkable  fea 
ture  in  his  personal  appearance  is  that  singular  transparency 
of  complexion,  and  that  uncommon  cleanliness,  that  gives  one 
a  kind  of  spiritual  look.  He  has  long  been  a  warm  public 
advocate  of  a  plentiful  use  of  fresh  air  and  pure  water,  or  a 
physiological  education,  as  necessary  to  develope  the  natural 
powers  of  the  mind ;  and  he  certainly  is  a  good  example  of 


180  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

the  system.  To  look  in  his  face,  you  would  not  dream  his  brain 
was  ever  clouded  with  impure  humors,  and  you  Ipok  not  on, 
but  into  his  face,  through  the  clear  white  skin,  for  the  spirit 
within.  His  conversational  powers  we  have  seldom  seen 
equalled.  One  is  attracted,  fascinated  by  the  steadfastness  of 
his  gaze,  and  the  information  to  be  gained  by  his  rapid  con 
versation.  Yet  our  sensations,  while  listening  to  him,  were 
not  all  pleasurable.  His  eye  has  that  piercing  expression 
which  is  so  often  described  as  looking  one  'through  and 
through,'  and  we  did  not  choose  to  have  him  read  on  our 
withered  brow,  a  record  of  all  the  cups  of  tea  we  had  drank. 
Then  his  enunciation  of  every  one  of  his  rapidly  spoken 
words  is  so  very  correct,  and  the  rendering  of  his  sentences  so 
very  perfect,  that  it  made  the  contrast  of  our  blundering 
answers  somewhat  mortifying. 

"  His  affections  must  be  of  the  strongest  class,  but  they  are 
not  apparent  to  a  stranger.  His  appearance  is  that  of  a  half- 
disembodied  intelligence  of  a  superior  order.  We  never  saw 
an  old  man  for  whom  we  had  so  much  respect  and  admira 
tion,  with  so  little  affection ;  but  then  he  looks  as  if  he  could 
not  get  the  gout  or  the  rheumatism,  or  the  bilious  fever,  and 
nothing  about  him  appeals  to  one's  pity ;  so  he  has  no  occa* 
sion  to  be  loved  by  any  but  the  few  he  loves.  He  has  none 
of  that  broad,  good-humored  smile,  that  invites  the  love  of  all 
the  world,  and  promises  an  ample  return.  His  smile  is  as  dis 
criminating  as  his  look  is  penetrating,  and  shows  that  his 
heart  is  approached  through  his  reason;  that  he  loves  but 
few,  and  loves  them  passing  well.  His  stock  of  information 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  181 

is  very  large  and  very  accurate,  for  on  almost  any  subject  of 
general  interest,  he  is  ready,  at  a  moment's  warning,  to  give 
you  the  general  view  and  the  minute  details ;  but  education, 
education  for  all,  is  the  topic  he  loves  best,  and  he  can  give 
one  clearer  views  of  its  importance  in  fifteen  minutes'  talking, 
than  can  be  obtained  from  reading  a  dozen  respectable  essays 
on  the  subject.  We  should  rather  listen  to  his  talk,  than  any 
one  whom  we  have  ever  heard  lecture  on  education.  Any 
one  visiting  Washington  may  know  him  without  the  trouble 
of  'pointing  out.'  He  is  the  tall,  straight,  thin  gentleman, 
with  the  clean  face,  white  hair,  gold-rimmed  spectacles,  blact 
clothes,  and  firm,  quick  motions." 


182  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


REV.  DOCTOR  BOARDMAN. 

THE  Rev.  Dr.  Boardman  preaches  in  a  neat  and  beautiful 
church  in  Walnut  street,  Philadelphia ;  the  building  will  seat 
about  a  thousand  persons,  has  galleries  on  three  sides,  a  hand 
some  pulpit,  trimmed  with  red  silk  velvet,  pews  wide,  well- 
cushioned  and  accessible.  The  only  opportunity  I  had  to  hear 
the  celebrated  preacher  and  author  who  has  occupied,  for  fifteen 
years,  his  present  post  of  honor  and  duty  and  responsibility, 
was  on  my  home  return  from  Washington,  when  he  delivered 
one  of  his  inimitable  and  eloquent  lectures  to  the  merchants 
of  Philadelphia. 

Some  of  the  solid  men  of  the  Quaker  city  were  present. 
The  house,  a  spacious  one,  was  so  crowded  it  was  with 
difficulty  the  preacher  wedged  his  way  to  the  pulpit.  Scores 
went  away,  unable  to  obtain  even  a  standee — good  evidence 
that  the  Doctor  "wears  well,"  that  he  has  not  "run  out," 
that  he  is  still  popular.  He  read  the  opening  hymn  in  a 
clear,  distinct,  manly  voice.  The  hymn  was  well  sung  by  a 
thoroughly  disciplined  choir.  Good  singing  is  one  of  the  most 
attractive  and  delightful  features  of  public  worship — it  is  the 
language  of  heaven — the  dialect  of  angels.  It  seems  to  give 
us  "the  sense  of  wings  "  on  \\hich  we  float  sky-ward.  Who 
ever  heard  of  a  vile  deed  being  done  immediately  after 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  183 

singing  a  sacred  song?  Here  the  congregation  joins  with 
the  choir  in  singing;  this  is  surely  much  better  than  being 
happy  by  proxy.  After  singing,  the  preacher  read  a  chapter 
giving  Solomon's  opinion  of  a  virtuous  woman.  The  prayer 
which  followed  was  fervid,  honest,  and  impressive.  The  text 
was  from  the  writings  of  Solomon,  "  many  women  have  done 
virtuously,"  an  eloquent  extract  from  the  Merchant's  Magazine 
followed  ;  it  was  written  by  a  lady  who  complains  of  her  lord 
because  of  his  neglect.  The  speaker  regrets  that  he  cannot 
deny  the  grave  imputations  brought  against  merchants  who 
allow  themselves  to  be  so  submerged  in  business  they  seem  to 
forget  their  families. 

But  I  intend  to  sketch  persons  and  not  sermons.  The  Rev. 
Doctor  Boardman  has  a  good  voice.  It  is  mellow,  with  a 
gentle  grate  and  quaver  in  it,  which  seems  to  leave  his 
peculiar  mark  on  the  word  he  utters.  His  gesticulation  is 
graceful,  natural,  and  emphatic.  The  peculiar  manner  in  which 
he  "  fixes  "  his  eyes  upon  his  hearers  and  the  way  in  which  his 
lips  come  together,  when  he  has  concluded  a  sentence,  (he 
desires  to  be  pondered  and  remembered,)  and  the  manner  in 
which  he  throws  his  face  forward,  as  he  does  occasionally, 
gives  the  idea  that  his  words  are  arrows  from  a  shaft  stronger 
than  steel,  that  hit  the  heart  of  the  appreciating  hearer.  His 
matter  is  solid  not  heavy,  sprightly  not  light,  practical  not 
mechanical,  classical  not  cobwebish,  it  is  philosophical,  argu 
mentative,  and  scriptural.  Such  matter  as  any  sensible  man 
may  hear  day  after  day,  week  after  week,  month  after  month, 
year  after  year,  and  never  suffer  a  surfeit,  or  starve  for  lack  of 


184  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

spiritual  food.  There  is  no  need  of  making  points  to  keep  up 
the  interest,  no  need  of  his  using  spice  to  sharpen  the  appe 
tite.  When  he  is  severe  his  sarcasm  cuts  like  a  lancet. 

He  is  not  a  subtle  metaphysician,  not  a  prating  pedant 
not  a  noisy  bunkum  declaimer.  He  has  a  strong  clear 
intellect,  and  common  sense  of  that  uncommon  quality  which 
is  closely  allied  to  genius.  He  is  well  educated,  and  what  he 
knows  he  knows  thoroughly,  and  has  complete  mastery  of 
the  stock  of  wisdom  always  on  hand.  His  language  is 
now  strong,  now  soft,  now  bold,  now  beautiful.  His  sarcasm 
is  refined,  compact,  steeped  in  humor,  and  spiced  with  irony. 
He  has  many  brilliant  qualities,  often  breaking  forth  in  bursts 
of  kindling  magnificence.  He  is  generally  moderate,  some- 
times  vehement,  always  majestic,  commanding  the  attention, 
impressing  the  impartial,  and  overawing  the  sceptical.  His 
sermons  are  his  own,  not  copies,  not  echoes,  not  shadows,  but 
real  transcripts  of  his  own  heart  and  brain  ;  shining  here  and 
there  with  lucidus  ordo.  His  sentences  are  so  perfectly 
finished  they  are  fit  for  the  reviewer  as  they  fall  from  his  lips. 
He  was  rather  uncivil  to  the  ladies  who  lead  the  Woman's 
Rights  party,  declaring  they  were  Amazonians  quarreling  with 
Providence  for  creating  them  women  instead  of  creating  them 
men.  In  person  he  is  rather  tall,  well  formed,  has  dark  brown 
hair,  carelessly  pushed  back  from  a  noble,  prominent  forehead ; 
has  an  oval  face,  blue  eyes  (I  think),  straight  nose,  thin,  may 
I  say  literary,  lips,  dresses  in  a  most  unministerial  manner, 
with  a  black  neck  tie  in  place  of  the  white  cravat.  He  is 
upwards  of  forty  years  of  age.  Long  life  to  him  and  may  he 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  185 

always  have  the  grace,  the  gift,  and  the  courage  to  rebuke  evii 
in  whatever  latitude  it  may  exist,  whatever  alias  it  may  assume ; 
may  he  not  be  too  timid  to  call  it  hard  names  and  grapple 
with  it,  forgetting  fame,  knowing  nothing  but  Christ  and  him 
crucified. 


186  CTJAYON    SKETCITF.8,    AND 


SOLON  ROBINSON 

THE  noise  in  the  world  which  "  Hot  Corn"  has  made,  and  is 
still  making,  may  cause,  in  some  of  our  readers,  curiosity  to 
know  something  respecting  its  author,  whose  personal  appear 
ance  has  been  dimly  shadowed  forth  in  the  posting  bills  of 
that  popular  book.  We  therefore  add  Solon  Robinson  to  our 
Gallery  of  the  Noticeables  of  America. 

To  the  readers  of  agricultural  journals  the  name  of  Solon 
Robinson  has  been  as  familiar  as  any  other  household  word  for 
twenty  years,  and  to  many  of  them  his  face  and  general 
appearance  are  familiar  ;  but  a  more  particular  acquaintance 
will  be  none  the  less  acceptable  to  those  who  have  seen  him 
than  to  those  who  have  not,  while  to  the  purchasers  of  fifty 
thousand  volumes  of  his  first  book,  who  have  had  a  glance  at 
his  appearance  as  indicated  in  the  rough  wood-cut  of  the 
"  poster"  before  alluded  to,  the  present  pen-sketch  may  be  par 
ticularly  acceptable. 

In  personal  appearance,  as  seen  in  the  street,  Mr.  Robinson 
looks  like  an  old  man ;  his  head  is  gray,  and  his  beard,  which 
he  wears  long,  is  entirely  white.  He  is  six  feet  high — stoop- 
shouldered — long-limbed — has  an  awkward  gait,  walks  with  a 
long  stride  and  always  with  a  cane,  and  is  not  overwell  dressed. 
He  generally  wears  black,  and  sports  a  Quaker-looking  hat, 
generally  "  the  worse  for  wear." 

A  stranger  would  suppose,  to  see  him  pass  rapidly  through 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  187 

the  thronged  streets  of  New  York,  that  he  saw  nothing  but  his 
boots,  yet  few  of  the  quick  young  eyes  of  the  crowd  see  more 
than  he  'does,  for  he  searches  to  the  very  bottom  of  everything, 
and  penetrates  all  with  a  mere  glance. 

Solon  Robinson  is  a  true  specimen  of  Yankee  character,  and 
possesses  great  versatility  of  talent.  He  could  build  a  ship  or 
a  log-cabin — write  a  philippic  or  a  sermon — "  set  the  table  in 
a  roar,"  or  draw  tears  from  a  "  full  house."  His  nature  is  an  odd 
compound^  of  seriousness  and  mirth.  His  voice  is  soft  enough 
for  a  parlor  and  quiet  conversation,  or  full,  clear,  and  distinct 
enough,  when  he  speaks  in  the  open  air,  for  thousands  of 
people  to  hear  him.  His  eyes  are  blue,  but  very  sharp ;  his 
hair  was  of  a  soft  dark  brown,  and  skin  fair,  in  all  of  which  he 
resembles  his  mother,  as  well  as  in  form  and  stature. 

His  nature  is  truthful  and  candid — if  he  likes  you,  you  will 
know  it — if  he  does  not,  you  will  not  long  remain  in  doubt  as 
to  the  fact.  He  is  too  plain  and  blunt  ever  to  be  personally 
popular.  The  vicious  will  always  hate  him.  Those  who  read 
his  book  will  see  that  he  is  no  friend  to  Vice,  particularly  that 
which  makes  the  world  vicious — the  Rum  Traffic.  His  aim 
is  to  build  up  (not  to  pull  down)  society  to  his  own  level. 

His  versatility  of  talent  has  surprised  a  good  many  people. 
They  have  wondered  that  a  man  who  could  write  so  well  upon 
farming,  could  give  such  graphic  reports  as  he  does  every 
week  of  the  cattle  and  horse  markets  of  New  York,  should  also 
have  the  power  to  draw  tears  from  the  million  with  the  story 
of  "Little  Katy."  They  think,  perhaps,  as  one  did  of  old, 
"  How  can  he  get  wisdom  that  holdeth  the  plow,  and  that 


188  CRAYOV    fiKK'^H^S     AXD 

glorieth  in  the  goad,  that  driveth  oxen,  and  is  occupied  in  theii 
labors,  and  whose  talk  is  of  bullocks  ;  who  giveth  his  mind  to 
make  furrows,  and  is  diligent  to  give  the  kine  fodder." 

Yet  the  subject  of  this  sketch  has  got  all  the  wisdom  he 
possesses,  amid  just  such  scenes  and  occupations,  for  he  was 
born  and  has  always  lived  amid  the  green  fields,  and  has  fol 
lowed  after  the  plow  and  led  the  kine  until  within  a  few  years 
past,  and  has  not-  yet  done  talking  of  bullocks,  having  made 
the  reports  of  the  New  York  Cattle  Market  a  prominent 
feature  in  the  Tribune. 

Solon  Robinson  was  born  October  21st,  1803,  about  a  mile 
south  of  the  village  of  Tolland,  Connecticut.  His  father,  whose 
name  was  Jacob,  the  son  and  grandson  of  Jacob,  and  lineal 
descendant  of  James,  the  Puritan,  whose  son  came  over  with 
the  Pilgrims,  was  born  in  Scotland  parish,  a  few  miles  east  of 
the  scene  of  the  great  bull-frog  fight,  or  fright,  which  has 
made  their  native  town  of  Windham  wide-world  renowned. 

Solon's  mother  was  Salinda  Ladd,  of  Coventry.  His  father, 
a  small  farmer  on  the  hard  lands  of  that  part  of  the  state,  and  a 
cooper,  died  when  Solon,  the  fourth  son,  was  about  six  years 
old,  and  his  mother,  who  had  one  son  a  week  after  her  hus 
band's  death,  found  herself,  as  many  a  widow  has,  obliged  to 
sell  everything  to  pay  debts,  and  to  put  her  boys  out  to  places 
with  farmers,  who  would  teach  them  to  hold  the  plow  and 
talk  of  bullocks. 

After  a  second  marriage,  and  a  sixth  son,  she  died,  and  his 
three  eldest  brothers  subsequently,  with  a  similar  pulmonary 
complaint.  Solon,  himself,  has  several  times  been  "  given  up 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  189 

by  the  doctors"  with  the  same  complaint.     Once  he  was  cured 
by  electricity — once  by  cold  water. 

His  education  was  just  such  as  might  be  expected  in  the 
old  school  house,  at  the  corner  of  the  cross  roads,  where  he 
attended  at  irregular  intervals.  At  fourteen  he  closed  this 
course  of  study  with  ability  to  spell  the  hard  words  of  Noah 
Webster's  spelling-book  and  to  write  his  name  in  a  good  round 
hand. 

After  that  he  went  to  learn  the  trade  of  a  carpenter;  hia 
master  found  him  exceedingly  useful  when  an  old  roof  was 
to  be  mended  or  a  new  one  built.  This  work  he  was  com 
pelled  to  quit  because  he  had  not  sufficient  strength,  but  the 
knowledge  gained  by  it  he  found  very  useful  in  after  life, 
especially  during  his  log-cabin  experiences  in  the  West. 

He  then,  like  many  other  Yankee  boys  went  peddling,  and 
after  many  and  various  other  avocations  wrote  some  graphic 
papers  in  the  Albany  Cultivator,  which  attracted  much  atten 
tion.  For  several  years  he  has  been  connected  with  the  press 
in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  is  now  the  associate,  on  the 
Tribune,  of  Horace  Greeley  and  C.  A.  Dana. 

Of  the  former  it  is  needless  to  say  anything  in  praise,  and 
scarcely  is  it  so  of  Mr.  Dana,  who  is  one  of  the  most  accomp 
lished  of  American  editors,  and  who  has  done  much  to  raise 
the  Tribune  to  its  present  high  position.  The  Hot,  Corn 
stories  have  made  their  author  a  celebrity,  and  with  Mrs. 
Stowe,  and  a  few  more  favored  writers,  Solon  Robinson  enjoys 
a  reputation  more  extensive,  perhaps,  than  that  of  any  othei 
living  sketcher  of  men  and  manners. 


190  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


JOHN  ROSS  DIX 

Is  one  of  the  most  fluent  and  forcible  writers  in  America, 
and  having  made  his  mark  on  the  present  age  by  the  produc 
tions  of  his  classic  pen,  I  will  endeavor  to  gratify  the  general 
reader  by  inserting  the  following  "  off-hand  "  sketch,  which 
was  written  by  me  for  an  editorial  friend  at  a  time  when 
family  afflictions  incapacitated  him  for  superintending  the 
management  of  his  paper.  Mr.  Dix  is  a  native  of  Bristol 
England,  and  now  editor  of  the  "  Waverley  Magazine,"  pub 
lished  in  Boston : — 

In  this  issue  of  our  paper  we  close  the  interesting  series  of 
articles  entitled  "  Passages  from  the  History  of  a  "Wasted  Life." 
They  have  been  to  the  "  Life  Boat "  what  the  thrilling  tale  of 
"Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  was  to  the  "National  Era?  Our 
readers  will  be  delighted  to  know  that  our  enterprising  and 
excellent  fellow-townsman,  B.  B.  Mussey  Esq.,  has  made 
arrangements  with  the  distinguished  author  of  this  truthful 
narrative  to  publish  it  forthwith,  so  that  its  appreciating 
admirers,  and  others,  may  have  it  in  a  more  beautiful  and  a 
less  ephemeral  form.  During  the  many  years  Ahat  we  have 
been  connected  with  the  press,  nothing  has  appeared  in  the 
columns  of  our  Temperance  Jouinals,  whose  melting  pathos, 
sparkling  poetry,  earnest  air,  and  laughing  humor,  have 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  191 

created  such  a  sensation  in  the  great  circle  of  Temperance 
readers. 

The  magnificent  poem  entitled  "To-Morrow,"  which 
appeared  in  last  week's  paper,  is  a  perfect  gem ;  and  stamps 
its  author  as  a  man  of  rare  genius.  Indeed,  there  is  so  much 
feeling  and  passion  in  these  lines,  we  seem  to  feel  the  pulsa 
tions  of  the  heart  out  of  which  they  throbbed — and  see  the 
radiant  light  of  the  cultured  brain  that  conceived  them. 

It  is  not  a  matter  of  astonishment  that  such  an  eminent 
man  as  Lucius  M.  Sargent,  who  stands  at  the  head  of  Tem 
perance  literature  in  this  country,  should  volunteer  his 
approval  of  the  work  in  question.  From  all  quarters  the 
same  verdict  is  rendered  by  disinterested  parties ;  even  the 
enemies  of  our  common  cause  admire  the  thrilling  style  and 
truthful  history  of  our  author.  Here  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
say,  that  this  inimitable  series  of  sketches  is  not  the  maiden- 
effort  of  our  highly  esteemed  friend  and  correspondent. 

His  prolific  pen,  like  a  match  ignited  by  friction,  has  blazed 
through  many  folios.  He  is  the  author  of  the  "  Pen  and  Ink 
Sketches" — "Loiterings  in  and  about  Boston  " — "  Life  of  John 
B.  Gough  " — "  Pen  Portraits  of  English  Preachers,"  and  per 
haps  a  dozen  other  different  works. 

Doubtless,  our  readers  would  be  gratified  with  a  personal 
sketch  of  one,  in  whose  remarkable  history  they  have  been  so 
intensely  interested.  We  were  on  the  point  of  mentioning 
his  name ;  but,  as  we  are  not  authorized  to  take  that  liberty, 
we  will  proceed  by  saying,  our  author  is  a  well-formed  man 
of  common  stature — rather  slender — of  the  nervous  bilious 


192  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

temperament — has  black  curly  hair — a  handsomely  developed 
forehead — a  nose  that  would  have  suited  Napoleon — and  his 
pale  classic  face  is  lit  up  with  a  pair  of  black  eyes,  in  which 
nis  soul  shines  like  a  star  in  the  firmament.  He  is  very 
sensitive  and  nervous ;  when  excited,  he  cannot  maintain  his 
seat  a  minute,  but  moves  about  quickly,  as  though  he  would 
twitch  his  limbs  from  their  ligaments.  At  such  times  he  has 
a  habit  of  shutting  and  opening  his  eyes  rapidly,  while  light 
flashes  from  them,  like  lightning  from  a  summer  cloud.  He 
dresses  neatly,  not  foppishly ;  has  the  air  of  a  well-bred 
gentleman ;  converses  fluently,  is  acquainted  personally  with 
most  of  our  literary  lions  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic ; 
reads  much — and  in  addition  to  his  literary  and  scientific 
attainments,  has  a  large  stock  of  general  knowledge.  He  is  a 
regular  apothecary  and  surgeon ;  and  has  been  editor  of  a 
journal  in  England.  His  style  is  peculiar  to  himself;  clear, 
graphic,  eloquent,  and  original.  At  some  future  time  we  may 
write  a  criticism  on  that  subject ;  at  present  we  will  add  but 
a  word  or  two  by  way  of  urging  our  readers  to  procure  an 
early  copy  of  "  Passages  from  the  History  of  a  Wasted  Life." 
His  style  reminds  one  of  De  Quincy  somewhat — there  is  in 
it  the  same  bonhommie  and  graphic  energy — the  same  manly 
courage  which  dares  to  utter  the  truth  in  plain  Saxon  words, 
which  are  strong  as  "  hooks  of  steel."  He  never  "  glories  in 
his  shame,"  but  like  the  author  of  the  "  Opium  Eater,"  tells 
his  story  frankly,  that  his  experience  may  be  a  lesson  and  a 
warning  to  others.  His  "  Life  of  Chatterton,"  the  boy-poet, 
although  one  of  his  earliest  efforts,  is  full  of  memorable  pas- 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  193 

sages.  His  miscellaneous  writings,  to  be  found  in  the  periodi 
cal  literature  of  the  day,  would  make  a  volume  which  would 
be  a  valuable  acquisition  to  any  library.  Those  who  are 
familiar  with  the  productions  of  his  pen,  must  have  admired 
his  chatty,  sketchy,  dashing  way  of  word  painting.  He 
writes  rapidly,  and  seldom  re-touches  his  most  elaborate 
essays — and  their  smoothness  is  not  to  be  attributed  to  the  file 
and  polisher,  but  to  the  fine  texture  of  the  natural  enamel. 
Owing  to  his  intuitive  and  quick  habit  of  thought,  and  the 
entire  command  he  has  acquired  over  his  intellectual  resources, 
he  is  ever  ready  at  a  moment's  warning  to  write  a  "  leader " 
for  a  newspaper,  a  lyric  for  an  annual,  or  an  essay  for  the 
most  fastidious  review.  The  autobiography  of  John  B.  Gough, 
which  has  been  scattered  broadcast  over  the  American  Con 
tinent,  and  republished  in  Europe,  was  written  by  him  in  a 
single  week.  We  have  not  space  in  the  present  crowded 
columns  of  our  little  sheet,  to  amplify  on  a  theme  which 
deserves  more  space  and  an  abler  pen. 

Here  is  the  beautiful  poem  alluded  to,  with  a  preface  from 
his  own  pen ;  I  clip  it  from  one  of  the  passages  of  his  history. 

"  Before  I  more  particularly  allude  to  this  residence  of  mine 
'  in  Chambers,'  I  may,  perhaps,  as  an  indication  of  the  morbid 
condition  of  my  mind  at  this  period,  be  permitted  to  present 
the  reader  with  a  copy  of  some  verses,  written  at  midnight, 
during  a  fit  of  deep  despondency.  No  one  has  a  more 
thorough  contempt  than  myself  for  '  occasional  verses,'  made 
to  order ;  and  I  trust  the  reader  will  not  suspect  that  these 

9 


194  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

were  written  to  gratify  a  stupid  vanity.  They  were  penned 
one  dreary  night,  in  a  bare  room,  almost  within  the  shadow 
of  the  towers  of  Westminster  Abbey,  the  great  bell  of  which 
was  booming  twelve  o'clock  over  the  wilderness  of  London, 
whose  dull  mysterious  roar  sounded  even  then. 

TO-MORROW. 
SWEET  day — from  whose  perpetual  dawn 

Half  of  Life's  little  light  we  borrow ; — 
Veil  of  the  future  yet  undrawn  ! — 

Hope's  own  blue  beautiful  To-MoRROW ! 
Day  ever  rising — never  risen  ! 

Time  ever  coming — never  come ! 
Thou,  who  dost  paint  the  soul's  dim  prison 

With  landscapes  of  Elysium, 
Still  peeps  thy  morning-star  behind, 

Though  sorrowful  TO-DAY  is  glooming; 
And  o'er  the  vexed,  tempestuous  mind, 

The  thunder-peals  of  thought  are  booming  ! 
When  the  heart  to  its  black  depths  is  stirred, 

Still,  in  each  pause  of  raging  sorrow, 
A  Voice, — a  soft,  blest  Voice  is  heard  ! 
'Tis  thine — the  sky-lark  of  Hope's  heaven, — To-MoRROW  f 

What  hoards  of  Happiness  to  be, 

Lie  somewhere  in  thy  secret  keeping  ! 
Aye  keeps,  as  keeps  a  sunny  sea 

The  rich  wrecks  in  its  bosom  sleeping  ! 
Yet,  blest  in  but  expected  pleasures, 

Earth's  millions  wait,  and  watch  thy  dawn: 
As  well  the  owners  of  those  treasures 

Might  wait  to  see  the  deep  gulf  yawn, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 

And  give  them  back  their  gold !     Oh !  when 

That  burial-vault  of  wealth  shall  ope, 
Then  shall  the  soul — and  not  till  then, 

Unfold  the  landscape  of  thy  dream,  oh  !  Hope  1 

Like  some  bright  host  with  untried  powers, 

Bright,  marching  in  the  morning  sun, 
Started  TO-!)AY,  with  all  its  Hours, 

Prepared  a  bright  career  to  run ; 
Like  that  lost  army,  madly  strewing 

The  battle  field  ere  day  is  done  • 
From  all  that  field's  dumb  death  and  ruin, 

But  one  voice  heard,  and  that  a  dying  one ; 
Such  this  TO-DAY'S  last  hours — now  taking  flight, 
With  all  their  hopes  and  aims  and  prospects  bright, 
And  purposes  sublime,  to  everlasting  Night ! 

Then,  wherefore  hail  a  Day  new-born, 

As  though,  upon  its  soundless  wing, 
Some  dove  unto  life's  Ark  forlorn 

The  olive  branch  of  Peace  might  bring? 
No  Eden  Bird  this  bosom's  emblem ! 

The  stormy  Petrel's  mine  might  form, 
That  builds  no  nest,  but  fluttering — trembling, 

Lives  out  at  sea,  and  fights  the  storm ! 
Screaming  its  sad  song  o'er  the  abyss, 
Heard  but  by  men  distressed :   as  this, 
Lost  on  the  world's  dull  ear,  may  reach  lone  misery**. 


196  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

The  following,  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Dix,  has  never  before 
appeared  in  print.  While  it  affords  a  specimen  of  our 
author's  style,  it  cannot  fail  to  interest  the  reader. 

it  A    PAIR    OF    ROMISH    PORTRAITS. 

FATHER     GAVAZZI     AND     CARDINAL    WISEMAN. 

"Travel,  with  us,  reader,  to  the  Princess'  Concert  Hall, 
for  in  that  spacious  and  splendid  Hall,  a  famous  Monk  is  about 
to  lecture  on  the  abuses  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 
Light  is  about  to  be  emitted  from  a  dark  church  lantern. 
The  Canon  Laws  and  Papal  Usurpation  is  to  be  the  subject 
of  the  oration. 

Look  at  that  swarthy  man,  on  the  platform,  whose  fine 
figure  is  draped  in  the  flowing  robes  of  his  religious  order ;  a 
cross  being  worked  on  the  left  breast.  Look  at  his  broad 
forehead,  his  dark,  glancing,  half-sinister  eyes,  and  listen  to 
his  magnificent  voice.  The  Concert  Room  is  as  crowded,  as 
if  Jenny  Lind  were  to  sing,  for  here  is  a  mighty  gathering  of 
exiles  and  patriots  of  every  grade.  There  is  Mazzini,  tall  and 
gaunt,  with  his  olive-complexioned  face,  large  melancholy 
eyes,  and  fine  head ;  and  others,  of  lesser  note,  are  to  be  seen 
in  the  crowd  of  brave  men  and  fair  women.  All  these  are 
attracted  not  less  by  sympathy  for  suffering  humanity  than  by 
the  exquisite  beauty  of  Italy's  language,  embellished  by  the 
splendid  delivery  of  the  monk.  Members  of  the  House  of 
Commons  muster  in  great  force ;  and,  indeed,  all  intellectual 
London  has  its  representatives  present  at  the  Hall. 

*ravazzi  commenced  his  oration.     At  first  his  tones  were 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  197 

low  and  solemn,  gradually  he  warmed  up  with  his  theme,  and 
then,  with  amazing  vigor  he  poured  forth  a  rushing  tide  of 
eloquence.  Satire,  sarcasm,  invective,  pathos,  sublimity,  antf 
piety  followed  each  other  in  rapid  succession.  His  forn» 
dilated,  and  his  eyes  flashed,  as  he  denounced  the  rascalities 
of  Popery,  and  his  garments,  flowing  in  the  wind  of  stormy 
applause,  rendered  his  appearance  highly  picturesque.  He 
evidently  made  his  expose  with  a  gusto ;  after  any  point  he 
would  partially  stoop,  lean  forward,  clap  his  hands,  and  a 
triumphant  smile  would  play  on  his  features.  The  enthusiasm 
which  for  two  hours  pervaded  the  assembly,  and  which  the 
vigorous  declamation  of  the  orator,  never  allowed  to  flag  for 
a  moment,  found  frequent  utterance  in  the  most  energetic 
bursts  of  uproarious  applause.  It  would  require — so  fluent 
was  he — a  regular  staff  of  stenographers  to  fairly  report  a 
speech  of  Father  Gavazzi,  for  the  eloquence  of  the  monk  is 
of  a  higher  and  different  order  than  that  which  the  '  gallery 
men '  of  the  great  legislative  assemblies  usually  have  to  do 

with." 

****** 

Here  is  a  sketch  from  the  life  of  Cardinal  Wiseman : — 

"  Slowly,  and  with  an  air  which  some  might  mistake  for  dig 
nity,  and  which  it  is  very  possible  was  meant  to  express  it, 
came  on  the  prime  emissary  of  the  Vatican.  Before  him  was  one 
official  bearing  a  lofty  triple,  gilded  cross,  and  a  second  carry 
ing  a  magnificent  crosier ;  and  on  either  side  of  the  "  proud 
prelate  "  slowly  walked  two  priests,  in  amber-colored  robes, 
richly  braided  with  gold,  supporting  his  train.  With  tall 


198  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

robust  form,  towering  above  these  appeared  Cardinal  Wiseman. 
He  was  superbly  clothed ;  on  his  head  pressed  a  mitre,  all 
glistening  with  gold  and  jewels ;  a  robe  of  amber  colors,  pro 
fusely  decorated  with  gold  embroidery,  and  on  the  back 
embroidered  with  a  gorgeously  wrought  cross,  enveloped  his 
portly  frame ;  and  from  beneath  the  rustling  garment  appeared 
trowsers  (profanely  so  to  speak)  of  white  satin,  glistening 
with  gold  spangles,  and  white  satin  shoes  also  spangled  with 
auriferous  ornaments;  his  great,  fat  hands  were  enclosed  in 
white  gloves,  elaborately  embroidered,  and  over  these  were 
rings  of  dazzling  lustre — but  conspicuous  among  all  was  the 
large  Episcopal  signet,  which  appeared  gloomy  and  grim 
among  its  sparkling  companion-gems,  like  the  dark  church 
of  which  it  was  a  symbol,  when  compared  with  that  of  a 
simpler  but  a  far  purer  and  more  resplendent  faith. 

Shade  of  Wolsey !  we  mentally  exclaimed,  as  we  gazed  on 
the  new  Cardinal,  can  the  priest  upon  whom  we  gaze  be  the 
man  who  has  set  Protestant  London  at  defiance?  Is  that 
vulgar,  coarse,  and  sensual-looking  individual,  the  head  of 
the  Catholic  Church  in  Britain  ?  The  universal  homage  that 
was  paid  him  as  he  slowly  paced  the  aisles  of  St.  George's 
Cathedral  presented  us  with  an  affirmative  reply. 


Engrave  1  "BjJ.C  Entire 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  199 


j  P.    T.    BARNUM. 

P.  T.  BARNUM,  the  chief  caterer  for  the  amusements  of 
the  million,  the  prince  of  showmen,  the  curiosity  king,  the 
ex-editor,  ex-school  teacher,  ex-clerk,  ex-merchant,  is  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  any  age  in  any  country, 
and  my  book  would  be  incomplete  without  some  allusion  to 
his  wonderful  energy  and  successful  enterprise.  He  has  been 
regarded  by  multitudes  as  a  strange  something,  part  humbug, 
part  human,  part  Hercules.  At  present  he  is  the  proprietor  of 
the  American  Museum,  and  one  of  the  sleeping,  but  not  one 
of  the  sleepy,  partners  of  the  firm  which  controls  the  New 
York  Illustrated  News.  He  is  a  writer  of  more  than  medio 
cre  ability,  and  he  ranks  high  as  a  platform  speaker,  while 
his  financiering  skill  is  unsurpassed  even  among  Yankees. 
Whatever  he  touches  turns  to  gold,  whether  it  be  Joice  Heth, 
or  Jenny  Lind,  Tom  Thumb,  or  a  pair  of  giants.  For  his 
generous  efforts  in  assisting  the  unfortunate  and  aiding  young 
beginners,  he  has  endeared  himself  to  many  recipients  of  his 
bountiful  benevolence ;  for  his  disinterested  labors  to  promote 
the  temperance  cause,  he  deserves  the  gratitude  and  admira 
tion  of  our  race  ;  at  his  own  expense  he  has  travelled  and  toiled, 
week  after  week,  in  the  face  of  obloquy  and  opposition,  to 
secure  the  advancement  of  a  glorious  reform  which  is  identv 


200  CRAYON    SKETCHES^   AND 

fied  with  the  happiness  of  every  member  of  the  human 
family.  Barnum  is  a  man  and  not  a  humbug.  He  is  an 
extraordinary  man,  he  is  a  great  man.  See  with  what  tact, 
boldness,  and  practical  good  common  sense  he  managed  the 
Jenny  Lind  affair :  did  he  not  deserve  the  princely  profit  he 
received  from  his  well  directed  efforts  to  secure  the  services 
of  the  queen  of  song,  and  the  admirable  manner  in  which  he 
carried  out  his  well  directed  plans  ? 

It  was  risk  enough  for  a  corporation  to  hazard,  and  required 
as  much  enterprise  as  a  community  possesses  to  execute  the 
arrangements  after  they  had  been  made.  With  what 
Napoleonic  energy,  and  superior  generalship  did  he  foil  the 
attempt  made  to  decoy  the  bird  from  his  hands  after  he  had 
caught  it  from  the  bush  ;  what  a  knowledge  of  human  nature 
has  he  displayed  in  the  tact  and  skill  with  which  he  has 
brought  out  cunning  contrivances  for  the  entertainment  of 
the  curious.  Now  he  shows  a  "fictitious"  nurse  of  Washing 
ton,  now  a  mermaid,  half  cod-fish  and  half  monkey,  manu 
factured  more  to  please  than  to  deceive  the  public,  now  an 
amiable  and  handsome  dwarf,  is  exhibited  in  the  presence  of 
the  Queen  and  nobility  of  England.  Now,  for  the  sake  of 
notoriety,  he  calls  himself  a  humbug,  and  the  cry  is  echoed  by 
the  press  all  over  the  Union. 

But  he  always  gave  his  patrons  their  money's  worth  of 
amusement,  and  it  cannot  be  proved  that  he  ever  received  the 
price  of  a  ticket  "  under  false  pretences ;"  that  Joice  Heth  was 
not  163  years  of  age  has  never  been  proved,  that  the  mer 
maid  which  is  now  in  the  Boston  Museum  was  not  the  creature 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  201 

it  purported  to  be  was  no  fault  of  his.  If  it  is  not  a  natural  ii 
is  a  mechanical  curiosity.  The  woolley  horse  was  a  natural 
curiosity,  for  which  he  paid  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars. 

Barnum  is  a  shrewd  man,  who  has  the  art  and  mystery  of 
making  large  sums  of  money  in  a  short  time,  and  then  he 
has  the  magnanimity  to  distribute  it  unostentatiously  among 
those  who  will  make  wise  appropriations  of  it.  He  is  a 
scheming  speculative  man,  but  far  removed  from  selfishness, 
and  would  never  sacrifice  nor  deny  his  principles  to  obtain 
place,  or  power,  or  fame,  or  fortune.  He  is  a  business  man, 
and  his  rules  for  success  in  business,  deserve  to  be  written  in 
gold,  and  preserved  in  frames  of  silver  in  every  counting 
room,  work-shop,  foundry,  and  factory,  and  dwelling,  in  the 
land.  He  is  a  gentleman,  polite  not  finical,  courteous  not 
affected,  and  truthful  without  dissimulation  in  his  personal 
intercourse  with  his  fellow  men.  He  is  a  philanthropist. 
Where  is  the  man  who  gives  more  generously,  and  makes  less 
parade  about  it  ?  In  politics  he  is  a  cold  water  Democrat ; 
in  religion  he  is  a  cold  water  Universalist. 

Mr.  Barnum  is  a  native  of  Danbury,  Connecticut,  and  is 
now  forty-three  years  of  age.  He  is  a  fine-looking  man,  well 
formed  and  somewhat  above  the  ordinary  size  and  stature. 
He  has  a  noble  forehead,  expressive  eyes,  and  a  mouth  finely 
cut  and  indicative  of  decision  and  energy ;  there  is  a  mixture 
of  mirthfulness,*  shrewdness  and  benevolence  in  his  counte- 

*  While  lecturing  out  West  on  the  subject  of  temperance,  some  one  in  th« 
Meeting  cried  out,  "  What  shall  we  do  with  our  surplus  grain?" 
"wee(j  the  starving  wives  and  children  of  drunkards,"  replied  Barnum. 


202  CRAYON   SKETCHES,   AND 

nance,  which  comports  with  his  character.  He  dresses  neatly 
without  much  ornament,  is  very  accessible,  and  treats  even 
the  humblest  person  with  much  kindness,  and  never  cuts  an 
old  acquaintance  in  the  hour  of  trial  and  misfortune.  He  is 
charitable  and  strictly  honorable  in  all  his  business  trans 
actions.  He  has  a  beautiful  home,  and  is  very  happy  in 
his  domestic  relations.  One  of  his  daughters  was  recently 
married.  The  following  description  of  his  residence  will  form 
a  fitting  close  to  this  sketch.  It  comes  from  one  of  his  own 
townsmen. 

P.    T.    BARNUM,    AND    HIS    RESIDENCE. 

One  of  the  first  places  which  a  stranger  visits  on  coming 
here,  is  Iranistan,  the  residence  of  P.  T.  Barnum,  proprietor 
of  the  American  Museum  and  importer  of  heavenly  minstrelsy 
into  our  unharmonious  country.  It  stands  upon  a  level  plateau, 
about  half  a  mile  from  the  main  street,  a  unique  and  mag 
nificent  building,  in  the  Oriental  and  Turkish  style — its  wings, 
piazzas,  galleries,  pinnacles,  and  dome  giving  it  a  light  and 
airy  appearance.  It  is  especially  beautiful,  when  viewed  by 
moonlight.  The  grounds  are  laid  out  in  excellent  taste,  with 
the  gardener's  cottage,  the  green-houses  and  the  stables  built 
in  a  style  of  architecture  corresponding  sufficiently  to  that  of 
the  house,  without  being  stiff  copies  of  it,  all  disposed  in  the 
best  manner  for  a  pleasing  general  effect.  The  gates  are  con 
stantly  thrown  open,  and,  in  pleasant  weather,  visitors  may  at 
almost  any  time  be  seen  riding  or  walking  through  the 
grounds  of  this  earthly  paradise.  Is  it  thus  thrown  open  to 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  203 

the  public  merely  to  gratify  an  ostentations  pride  ?  I  think 
not. 

It  is  a  Sabbath  evening,  and  the  sun  is  just  setting.  Groups 
of  gentlemen  and  ladies  are  threading  the  walks  among  the 
trees — the  hard-working  mechanic  with  his  wife  and  children, 
all  dressed  in  their  best,  are  sauntering  over  paths  thickly 
strewed  with  tiny  seashells,  admiring  the  flowers  and  rare 
shrubs  that  border  the  walks,  or  throwing  crumbs  to  the  tame 
fishes  in  the  fish-pond,  or  gazing  at  the  rare  exotics  in  the 
green-houses,  and  all  enjoying  the  costly  scene,  as  really,  for 
the  moment,  as  if  it  were  their  own.  The  proprietor,  if  he 
is  at  home,  simply  enjoys  the  innocent  pleasure  which  his 
establishment  affords  the  people,  and  I  really  believe,  that  if 
he  were  conditioned  to  hold  it  guarded  with  the  exclusiveness 
which  characterizes  some  of  the  snobbish  aristocracy  of  our 
land,  he  would  sooner  burn  it  to  the  ground.  But  the 
chances  are  that,  instead  of  being  at  home,  stretched  upon  a 
luxurious  sofa,  this  Sunday  evening,  he  started  in  his  buggy 
some  hour  or  two  since,  to  fulfil  an  appointment  to  lecture 
upon  temperance  in  some  country  village,  distant  ten  or  fifteen 
miles.  His  heart  is  thoroughly  interested  in  this  reform, 
which,  heaven  knows,  is  unpopular  enough  in  Connecticut, 
and  he  is  constantly  sacrificing  his  money  and  ease  to  promote 
it.  Although  unaccustomed  to  public  speaking,  his  addresses 
tell  upon  an  audience  in  a  most  effective  manner. 

With  many  others,  I  was  once  accustomed  to  associate  the 
name  of  Barnum  with  humbug,  but  the  truth  is,  there  is  no 
humbug  about  the  man — Barnum.  He  may  have  taken  th« 


204  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

advantage  of  the  craving  for  humbugs,  which  is  one  of  the 
passions  of  mankind,  but  he  is  a  real  man,  with  noble  qualities 
and  feelings — and  no  humbug.  He  is  proving  in  many  ways 
that  the  public  know  nothing  of,  that  he  unites  benevolence 
and  enlarged  views  to  his  acknowledged  business  tact,  talent, 
and  enterprise.  This  latter  has  indeed  been  placed  above  all 
cavil  by  his  engagement  with  the  famed  Swedish  Nightingale ; 
for  who  in  America  could  have  given  us  Jenny  Lind,  but 
Barnum  ? 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  205 


DR.  E.  KANE. 

IT  was  announced  that  Dr.  E.  Kane,  of  Arctic  Expedition 
notoriety,  would  lecture  before  the  citizens  of  Boston,  on  Mon 
day  evening,  consequently  an  immense  audience  convened  at 
an  early  hour  to  see  and  hear  the  intrepid  traveller.  While  we 
were  patiently  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  great  tourist,  a 
sudden  outburst  of  applause  advertised  the  arrival  of  a  short, 
stout,  fat,  corpulent  old  gentleman,  whose  large  round  head 
was  thickly  covered  with  long  dark  hair,  carefully  parted  in 
the  middle  and  combed  behind  his  ears.  He  had  a  low  fore 
head,  full,  fat  face,  light  inexpressive  eyes,  and  his  jaws  seemed 
to  cave  in  as  though  he  had  lost  his  teeth.  He  looked  more 
like  a  Dutch  ploughman  from  the  valley  of  the  Mohawk,  than 
a  learned  lawyer,  but  it  really  was  Chief  Justice  Shaw,  the 
most  distinguished  jurist  in  Massachusetts. 

Another  explosion  of  applause,  and  a  slender  man  of  average 
height,  weighing  perhaps  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds, 
walked  gracefully  toward  the  desk.  It  was  the  heroic  adven 
turer,  who  has  probably  seen  as  much  of  the  physical  world 
as  any  living  man  of  his  age.  He  has  black  hair  with  a  curl 
in  it,  carefully  brushed  aside,  leaving  one  of  his  lofty  temples 


206  CRAYON   SKETCHES,   AND 

bare  and  concealing  the  other.  His  pale  thin  face  is  lit  up 
with  a  pair  of  small  round  blue  eyes,  and  his  mouth  is  shaded 
with  a  short  black  moustache,  which  terminates  in  an  impe 
rial  ;  his  long  nose  indicates  clearness  of  brain,  and  his  earnest 
countenance  denotes  unfaltering  integrity  of  purpose.  His 
voice,  though  clear  and  flexible,  has  not  sufficient  volume  and 
power  to  fill  the  great  hall  where  he  lectured .  He  extem 
porised  nearly  half  the  time,  and  spoke  fluently  and  cor 
rectly.  In  his  right  hand  he  held  a  fish  pole,  with  which  he 
pointed  to  the  diagrams  on  the  wall  in  front  of  the  audience. 

His  lecture  was  the  shortest  of  the  season,  and  might  have 
been  made  the  most  interesting  one  had  he  confined  himself 
to  the  history  of  his  search  for  Sir  John  Franklin,  instead  of 
giving  us  a  geographical  history  of  the  North  Pole.  A  report 
of  a  part  of  his  lectuie,  however,  I  am  sure  will  be  intensely 
interesting. 

"  It  is  difficult,"  the  lecturer  remarked  in  opening,  "  as  we 
look  at  a  map  of  the  world,  to  believe  that  all  the  world,  save 
a  very  limited  expanse,  was  wrapped  in  ignorance.  Nor  has 
that  ignorance  totally  disappeared,  for  there  are  portions  of 
the  globe  entirely  unknown  to  the  civilized  world,  and  much 
exploration  is  needed  to  reveal  vast  regions,  still  hidden  from 
the  knowledge  of  man.  The  vicinity  of  the  North  Pole  is 
among  those  portions  yet  to  be  explored.  It  is  shut  out  from 
us  by  a  vast  barrier  of  ice.  The  early  settlers  of  Iceland 
revealed  an  extension  of  ice  far  to  the  north.  It  was  then 
shown  to  extend  to  Hudson  and  Baffin's  Bays,  and  Captain 
Cook  defined  its  existence  in  Behring's  Straits. 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  207 

"  Modern  science  has  taught  us  to  lay  down  the  limits  of 
this  vast  ice  barrier,  and  to  define  the  boundaries  of  a  great 
polar  continent.  The  ice  barrier,  commencing  at  Labrador, 
extends  to  that  portion  known  as  Lost  Greenland,  and  then 
comes  across  the  Atlantic  to  Spitzbergen,  thence  to  Nova 
Zembla.  On  the  northern  coast  of  Russia  it  may  further  be 
traced,  and  also  north  of  America,  while  whalers  have  found 
it  throughout  Behring's  Straits.  This  immense  body  of  ice 
bounds  a  circle  6000  miles  in  circumference,  and  encloses  an 
area  one-third  larger  than  the  continent  of  Europe.  It  can 
be  safely  stated  that  this  ice  barrier  is  not  continuous,  but  is  a 
ring  surrounding  an  open  sea.  How  solemn  is  the  conception 
of  such  a  vast  inland  sea,  shut  in  by  ice,  on  whose  coast  no 
human  being  has  yet  trod  ! 

"  There  are  facts  to  show  the  necessity  and  certainty  that 
there  is  a  vast  inland  sea  at  the  North.  There  must  be  some 
vast  receptacle  for  the  drainage  of  the  polar  regions,  and  the 
great  Siberian  rivers.  To  prove  that  water  must  actually  exist, 
we  have  only  to  observe  the  icebergs.  These  floating  masses 
cannot  be  formed  without  terra  firma,  and  it  is  a  remarkable 
fact  that  out  of  360°  in  only  30°  are  icebergs  to  be  found, 
showing  that  land  cannot  exist  in  any  considerable  portion  of 
the  country." 

"  Again,  Baffin's  Bay  was  long  thought  to  be  a  close  bay, 
but  it  is  now  known  to  be  connected  with  the  Arctic  sea. 
Within  the  Bay,  and  covering  an  area  of  90,000  square  miles, 
there  is  an  open  sea  from  June  to  October.  We  find  here  a 


208  CRAYON    SKETCHES,   AND 

vacant  space  with  water  at  40°  temperature — eight  degrees 

higher  than  freezing  point.     This  is  due  to  the  polar  ice  drift. 

****** 

"  A  halt  is  ordered,  and  rising  twenty  feet  in  the  air  is  a 
ridge  to  oppose  the  progress  of  our  party.  Quickly  the 
sledge  is  taken  to  pieces,  the  various  parts  are  conveyed  over 
the  ridge,  it  is  again  put  together,  and  the  party  move  on. 
Another  halt,  and  a  black  river  flows  directly  across  the  path 
of  our  party.  The  gutta  percha  boats  are  taken  out,  the 
sledge  is  again  taken  to  pieces  and  carried  across,  again  to  be 
put  together.  No  hesitancy  is  allowed,  and  although  the 
hours  of  work  in  a  day  are  many,  yet  ten  miles  is  considered 
good  progress. 

"  Another  halt,  and  the  day's  work  is  done.  A  snow-hut 
is  erected,  the  men  remove  their  wet  boots  and  stockings, 
wash  their  feet  in  snow,  and  step  into  a  wolf-skin  blanket, 
spread  upon  water-proof  cloth,  thrown  upon  the  icy  ground. 
A  lamp  is  lighted,  and  water  is  procured  from  the  snow.  The 
supper  is  prepared,  another  wolf  skin  is  thrown  over  the 
fatigued  explorer,  and  he  sleeps  only  to  wake  again  to 
renewed  labor.  The  food  to  be  used  by  Dr.  Kane's  Expedition 
is  dried  pemmican,  which  is  composed  of  the  muscles  of  oxen, 
prepared  in  the  marrow  of  these  animals,  forming  a  nutritious 
article  of  sustenance. 

"  All  unnecessary  baggage  will  be  avoided,  and  the  smallest 
needful  quantity  of  food  and  raiment  will  be  proportioned  to 
each  man. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  209 

"  The  line  of  travel  to  be  pursued  will  be  due  north  until  we 
reach  the  headlands  of  Greenland,  and  then  we  shall  descend 
in  search.  It  has  been  determined  to  make  the  expedition 
one  of  scientific  importance,  and  for  this  purpose  every  obser 
vation  possible  will  be  made  and  chronicled.  Natural  history, 
the  mysteries  of  northern  migration,  in  a  word,  all  subjects 
that  are  worthy  of  investigation  will  be  made  objects  of 
search  by  the  expedition.  Prof.  Henry  of  the  Smithsonian 
Institute,  always  ready  to  advance  every  endeavor  to  attain 
knowledge,  has  furnished  the  party  with  a  supply  of  instru 
ments  for  observations,  and  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  will 
apply  to  Congress  for  appropriations  necessary  to  carry 
forward  the  work.  And  now  an  appeal  is  made  to  Boston 
for  sympathy  and  aid. 

"  Whether  Sir  John  Franklin  is  alive  or  not,  is  not  now  the 
subject  under  discussion.  Our  duty  to  attempt  to  rescue  him 
if  alive,  or  to  seek  the  solution  of  his  fate  is  plain.  Traces 
can  be  found,  and  it  is  incumbent  on  us  to  attempt  to  find 
them." 

In  concluding,  Dr.  Kane  asked  the  sympathy  of  all  the 
good  and  kind,  for  the  party  who  are  soon  to  leave  for  a 
region  where  even  day  and  night  are  unknown,  and  all  is 
dreary  and  desolate. 

The  Hall  was  densely  crowded,  and  Dr.  Kane's  lecture 
was  listened  to  with  marked  attention  by  all. 


210  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


NATHANIEI  HAWTHORNE. 

WHAT  grand  accommodations  are  provided  for  the  people 
of  this  generation  !  Rivers  are  bridged,  hills  are  tunnelled, 
ships  are  launched,  while  fire,  wind,  and  water  are  harnessed 
arid  compelled  to  turn  a  crank  here,  and  roll  a  wheel  there, 
and  drive  a  wedge  yonder.  The  elements  once  controlled  us. 
We  were  blown  about  by  the  wind,  scorched  by  the  lightning, 
and  drowned  in  the  flood.  Now  the  sea  is  the  "  highway  of 
nations,"  the  lightning  our  messenger,  and  the  wind  our  hard 
working  slave. 

Then,  again,  we  have  such  advantages  in  this  "  land  of  the 
free  and  home  of  the  brave."  Our  kind-hearted  relative, 
Uncle  Sam,  is  such  a  clever  old  chap,  who  knows  how  to 
provide  for  his  twenty  millions  of  nephews  and  nieces.  In 
every  place,  that  is  any  place,  drop  a  letter  into  his  post  box, 
and  forthwith  he  mounts  the  stage-seat,  and  with  a  bland  smile 
drops  the  billet  on  the  breakfast  table  the  next  morning,  one 
thousand  miles  away.  If  one  desires  to  ride,  he  yokes  his 
team  of  fire  and  water,  and  his  steeds,  with  lungs  of  fire  and 
manes  of  smoke,  speed  forward  with  wings  on  their  heels. 

Accept  my  grateful  acknowledgments,  good,  dear,  kind 
Uncle  Sam,  for  the  delightful  ride  I  have  had  from  Boston  to 
Concord  this  glorious  morning.  The  trees  are  in  full  blossom ; 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  211 

birds  are  flying  from  busli  to  bush,  and  they  have  set  to  music 
the  poetry  Spring  has  written ;  lambs,  with  no  fear  of  the 
butcher  and  no  thought  of  the  glutton  before  them,  are  frolick 
ing  in  the  green  meadows ;  and  lovely  children,  apparently  as 
innocent  as  lambs,  and  certainly  more  beautiful  than  flowers, 
are  on  their  way  to  school  with  bouquets  in  their  hands. 

A  kind  friend  has  invited  me  to  accompany  him  to  the 
monument  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  first  battle  fought 
during  the  revolutionary  struggle.  We  have  passed  several 
ancient  buildings,  relics  of  the  "olden  time."  From  that 
window  looking  eastward,  the  old  lady  who  now  occupies  the 
house  saw  the  soldiers  passing  over  the  hill,  with  their  hand 
kerchiefs  in  their  sides  to  staunch  the  blood  gushing  from 
their  gaping  wounds. 

We  have  now  reached  the  spot  where  some  say  the  first 
blood  was  shed  in  the  battle  for  freedom  in  America.  A  shaft 
of  granite,  about  thirty  feet  high,  marks  the  spot  where  the 
first  victims  were  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  Liberty.  On  the 
19th  of  April,  1775,  three  hundred  intrepid  rural  soldiers 
drove  before  them  five  times  that  number  of  regular  British 
troops,  and  forced  them  to  find  shelter  behind  their  own  bul 
warks. 

There  goes  a  tall,  lean,  venerable,  senatorial  looking  man, 
his  head  whitened  with  the  snows  of  seventy  winters.  It  is 
Judge  Hoar,  the  distinguished  jurist  and  the  noted  hero  of  the 
South  Carolina  explosion.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  the  essay 
ist  and  lecturer,  lives  in  that  large  square,  unpoetical-looking 
cottage,  so  handsomely  situated;  and  that  Gothic  summer* 


212  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

house  in  his  garden  was  built  by  his  intimate  friend  Alcott, 
the  author  of  the  "  Delphic  Oracles." 

In  the  old  parsonage  yonder,  near  the  monument,  Nathaniel 
Hawthorne,  the  author  of  the  "  Scarlet  Letter,"  and  other 
popular  books,  was  born.  Here  is  a  good  back-ground  for  a 
picture  :  suppose  we  take  his  portrait. 

Until  within  a  few  years,  the  author  of  "  Twice  Told  Tales  " 
has  remained  in  comparative  obscurity ;  for  it  is  one  of  the 
sins  of  the  American  people,  that  they  rarely  appreciate 
genius  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  until  it  has  been  discovered 
by  some  critic  on  the  other  side.  Besides,  the  few  here  who 
think  they  have  grown  to  full  fame  seem  anxious  to  make  the 
number  grow  "  beautifully  less,"  and  while  they  hold  the  keys 
of  the  temple  of  fame,  no  man  is  allowed  to  step  over  its 
threshold,  who  comes  unheralded  by  a  .trumpeter  from 
England.  Thank,  fortune  and  his  own  genius,  he  has  worked 
his  way  to  true  appreciation  without  using  cant  or  claptrap — 
humbug  and  hypocrisy.  Long  ago  he  should  have  stood  in 
the  company  of  such  men  as  Irving,  Paulding,  Bancroft  and 
Prescott ;  but  he  was  too  poor  and  too  honest  to  purchase 
labored  puffs  and  eloquent  eulogies  in  the  magazines.  No 
thanks  to  the  critics  (who  tried  to  kill  him  by  letting  him 
alone  severely)  for  the  prominent  position  he  now  occupies. 

Edgar  A.Poe,  speaking  of  Hawthorne,  says  that  he  is  pecu 
liar,  not  original — something  like  the  German  Tieck  in  his 
manner  and  in  the  selection  of  his  subjects,  while  his  same 
ness,  or  monotony,  or  peculiarity  is  mistaken  for  originality. 
He  is  less  original  but  almost  as  allegorical  as  John  Bunyan, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  213 

and  when  we  read  the  "  Old  Arm  Chair,"  "  Sights  from  a 
Steeple,"  "Little  Annie's  Ramble,"  "  Sunday  at  Home,"  "A 
Rill  from  the  Town  Pump,"  "  The  Toll  Gatherer's  Day,"  "  The 
Haunted  Mind,"  "  The  Snow  Flakes,"  "  Night  Sketches,"  and 
the  "Celestial  Railroad,"  we  find  as  many  figures  and  as 
much  dreaming  in  Hawthorne's  progress  as  we  do  in 
"Pilgrim's  Progress."  He  has  not  the  polish  of  Irving,  the 
poetry  of  Lamb,  nor  the  variety  of  Hazlitt.  The  subject  of 
this  sketch  is  to  all  intents  and  purposes  a  first-rate  story 
teller  ;  for  he  has  invention  and  imagination,  refined  style, 
exquisite  taste,  delicate  humor,  melting  pathos,  and  scholar 
ship  sufficient  and  ingenuity  enough  to  employ  all  the 
materials  and  attributes  he  possesses  to  the  best  account. 

A  friend  of  mine  informed  me  to-day  that  Hawthorne  is 
such  a  modest  man  that  he  will  not  look  another  in  the  face 
— that  he  is  so  bashful  he  avoids  society,  and  will  sometimes 
leave  his  house  to  avoid  the  contact  of  visitors. 

In  person  he  is  a  little  above  the  ordinary  stature — has  dark 
hair  and  dark,  dreamy  eyes.  He  is  seen  so  seldom  in  public, 
it  is  as  difficult  to  describe  him  as  to  paint  a  figure  of  the  fleet 
ing  air. 


214  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 


SAMUEL  F.  B.  MORSE. 

WHAT  an  age  of  invention  and  improvement  is  this! 
Our  path  is  paved  with  rails  of  iron,  on  which  steeds  of  steam 
outrace  the  eagle ;  our  portraits  are  painted  by  the  sun,  so 
accurately  that  ugly  people,  who  are  vain,  seldom  look  a 
daguerreotypist  in  the  face ;  but  the  greatest  and  most  impor 
tant  invention  of  this  century,  is  the  Magnetic  Telegraph,  as  a 
communicator  of  intelligence  by  signs,  which  it  records  in  cha 
racters  so  palpable  that  he  who  runs  may  read — while  no  one 
can  run  so  fast  as  the  news  can  fly.  The  railroad,  the  steam 
boat,  sun-painting,  are  not  to  be  compared  for  a  moment  with 
the  invention  perfected  by  Professor  Morse.  Watts,  Fulton, 
Franklin,  and  other  men  deserve  our  affectionate  admiration, 
but  Morse  overshadows  them  all ;  and  he  will  live  for  ever, 
fresh  in  the  recollection  of  his  countrymen ;  while  those  who 
would  deprive  him  of  his  honor,  fairly  won,  and  his  reward, 
so  niggardly  bestowed,  will  sink  to  insignificance.  I  do  not 
now  refer  to  the  men  who  have  suggested  improvements  in 
the  method  of  recording  the  communication  received  and 
transmitted  on  the  wires,  but  to  those  who,  through  envy  and 
jealousy,  manifest  a  mean  reluctance  to  give  honor  to  whom 
honor  is  due,  and  withhold  the  consideration  to  which  Pro 
fessor  Morse  is  so  well  entitled. 

The  distinguished  American  artist  who  invented  the  Elec- 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  215 

trie  Telegraph,  is  the  eldest  son  of  the  Rev.  Jedediah  Morse, 
the  first  writer  on  geography  in  this  country.  He  was  born  in 
Charlestown,  Massachusetts,  and  is  now  about  sixty  years  of 
age.  He  studied  at  Yale  College,  where  he  graduated  in 
1810.  Having  an  irresistible  desire  to  become  a  painter,  his 
father  reluctantly  gave  his  consent,  and  permitted  him  to  sail 
for  London  under  the  care  of  Washington  Allston.  After  his 
arrival  in  the  great  Babylon  of  Britain,  he  became  acquainted 
with  Leslie,  and  their  first  efforts  were  portraits  of  each  other. 
So  industrious  and  successful  was  Mr.  Morse  in  his  profession, 
that  two  years  after  his  landing  in  London  he  exhibited,  at 
the  Royal  Academy,  his  famous  picture  of  "  The  Dying  Her 
cules."  He  received  the  most  nattering  compliments  from 
connossieurs,  and  the  model  which  he  made  to  assist  him  in 
painting  his  picture,  obtained  the  sculpture  prize  for  him. 

When  he  returned  to  the  United  States,  he  settled  in  Boston, 
where  he  had  to  contend  with  so  many  discouragements,  he 
quitted  the  city  of  "  Notions  "  and  went  to  New  Hampshire, 
and  painted  portraits  for  a  trifling  consideration — say  from  $10 
to  $15  each.  Afterwards  he  plied  his  pencil  in  Charleston, 
South  Carolina,  where  his  talents  were  appreciated,  and  where 
he  was  more  generously  compensated  for  his  labors.  In  1822 
he  commenced  operations  in  the  city  of  New  York,  where  he 
became  popular  as  a  painter,  and  where  he  was  handsomely 
compensated  for  his  skill.  It  was  there,  under  the  auspices 
of  the  City  Corporation,  he  painted  the  full-length  likeness  of 
Lafayette. 

About  this  time  he  was  mainly  instrumental  in  organizing 


216  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

the  Artists'  Association,  from  which  grew  the  National 
Academy  of  Design.  He  was  the  first  president  of  this 
famous  institution,  and  he  delivered  the  first  course  of  lectures 
on  Art  in  America.  In  the  year  1829  he  again  visited  Europe, 
and  was  absent  from  his  native  land  three  years.  "  On  his 
return  from  Europe,"  says  the  author  of  the  "Men  of  the 
Time,"  "  a  gentleman  in  describing  the  experiments  that  had 
just  been  made  in  Paris  with  the  electro  magnet,  the  question 
arose  as  to  the  time  occupied  by  the  electric  fluid  in  passing 
through  the  wire,  stated  to  be  about  one  hundred  feet  in 
length.  On  the  reply  that  it  was  instantaneous  (recollecting 
the  experiments  of  Franklin),  he  suggested  that  it  might  be 
carried  to  any  distance,  and  that  the  electric  spark  could  be 
made  a  means  of  conveying  and  recording  intelligence.  This 
suggestion,  which  drew  some  casual  observation  of  assent  from 
the  party,  took  deep  hold  of  Professor  Morse,  who  undertook 
to  develope  the  idea  which  he  originated,  and  before  the  end 
of  the  voyage,  he  had  drawn  out  and  written  the  general  plan 
of  the  invention,  with  which  his  name  will  be  inseparably 
connected." 

After  landing  in  New  York,  he  resumed  the  practice  of  his 
profession,  devoting  his  leisure  moments  to  the  accomplish 
ment  of  his  object.  In  1835  he  demonstrated  the  feasibility 
of  his  plan  in  the  New  York  University,  by  putting  a  model 
telegraph  in  operation.  Two  years  afterwards,  "Wheatstone, 
of  England,  and  Steinheil,  of  Bavaria,  also  invented  magnetic 
telegraphs,  differing  from  each  other,  and  both  inferior  to  the 
invention  of  Professor  Morse. 


CFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  217 

Since  that  time  the  entire  world  has  been  made  acquainted 
with  the  progress  and  history  of  the  invention.  Professor 
Morse  has  received  honors  and  presents  from  various  sources. 
At  the  suggestion  of  Steinheil,  his  system  was  adopted  in 
Germany ;  the  sultan  of  Turkey  bestowed  on  him  the  "  order 
of  glory,"  with  a  diploma  decorated  with  diamonds;  the 
king  of  Prussia,  though  not  wishing  the  discovery  to  be  sneezed 
at,  gave  him  a  gold  snuff-box  ;  the  king  of  Wiirtemberg  gave 
him  a  gold  medal.  In  1840  he  received  his  patent  from 
Washington.  The  first  news  carried  over  the  wires  was 
the  announcement  of  the  nomination  of  James  K.  Polk  as 
the  candidate  selected  by  the  Democrats  for  the  Presidency. 
Now  there  are  nearly  twenty  thousand  miles  of  wire  in  opera 
tion  in  this  and  other  countries.  This  lightning  compeller 
has  such  a  passion  for  painting,  that  even  now  he  speaks  of 
resuming  his  pencil.  I  do  not  like  to  hunt  up  coincidences, 
but  it  is  somewhat  singular  that  the  man  who  taught  our 
fathers  and  grandfathers  geography,  should  have  a  son  whose 
inventive  genius  has  taught  us  how  to  annihilate  the  distance 
which  divides  one  part  of  the  world  from  the  other — and  that 
the  inventor  should  have  a  brother,  the  editor  of  the  "  New 
York  Observer,"  whose  business  can  be  so  much  improved 
and  accelerated  by  this  great  discovery.  Columbus  discovered 
this  continent,  Washington  made  it  free,  Franklin  caught  the 
lightning,  and  Morse  has  harnessed  it  and  made  it  our  mes- 
lenger. 


10 


2 IS  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 


GEORGE    W.    KENDALL 

GEORGE  W.  KENDALL,  known  the  world  over  as  the  editor 
of  the  New  Orleans  Picayune,  is  a  "  Green  Mountain  Boy/ 
who  passed  the  days  of  his  boyhood  in  the  beautiful  town  of 
Burlington. 

When  he  attained  his  majority,  he  visited  the  city  of  New 
York,  where  he  remained  until  1835,  when  he  went  to  New 
Orleans  ;  there  he  assumed  the  editorial  management  of  one 
of  the  most  popular  papers  in  America  (the  New  Orleans 
Picayune).  His  attic  wit,  his  exquisite  taste,  his  elegant  com 
positions,  were  admired  and  appreciated  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic.  Hood  in  his  palmiest  days  was  not  a  cleverer  pun 
ster.  Douglas  Jerrold  has  never  displayed  more  genuine 
wit.  He  may  be  styled  the  merry- Andrew  of  the  press,  a-nd 
yet  he  is  not  a  harlequin  nor  a  clown,  but  a  polished  gentle- 
man,  saying  the  pleasantest  things  in  the  most  delightful 
manner.  His  humor  is  irresistible — his  wit  sharp  as  a  two- 
edged  sword — his  pathos  sure  to  move  the  heart  and  unseal 
the  fountain  of  tears.  Hypochondria  has  no  chance  to  survive 
the  first  scratch  of  his  magic  pen.  Volumes  of  amusing  and 
touching  articles  might  easily  be  selected  from  his  model 
paper.  As  a  paragraphist  and  essayist  he  occupies  a  proud 
position.  But  he  wields  the  sword  as  well  as  the  pen.  In 
the  spring  of  1841,  partly  for  the  benefit  of  his  health,  and 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  21fe 

partly  to  gratify  his  love  of  adventure,  lie  set  out  for  Austin 
with  the  Santa  Fe  Expedition ;  and  when  he  returned  wrote 
a  most  interesting  history  of  it,  giving  a  graphic  account  of 
his  captivity  and  sufferings  in  Mexico. 

He  resumed  his  editorial  functions  and  duties,  and  remained 
in  the  Cresent  city  until  the  commencement  of  the  Mexican 
war,  when  he  once  more  abandoned  his  literary  labors,  and 
attended  General  Taylor  as  a  member  of  his  staff,  through 
the  whole  of  his  campaigns.  At  the  close  of  the  war  he 
made  the  tour  of  Europe.  He  has  obtained  an  enviable  repu 
tation  as  the  author  of  a  splendid  "  History  of  the  War  be 
tween  the  United  States  and  Mexico."  He  is  a  sociable, 
agreeable,  accessible  gentleman,  whose  extraordinary  talents 
and  manly  bearing  command  the  respect  of  a  vast  multitude 
of  friends. 

The  Picayune  is  a  brilliant  sheet,  abounding  in  good  things , 
and,  unlike  many  of  its  contemporaries,  it  is  not  indebted  to 
the  confectioner  for  them. 


SAMUEL  HOUSTON. 

GEN.  SAMUEL  HOUSTON,  United  States  senator  from  Texas, 
is  an  extraordinary  man,  whose  common  sense  and  courage 
have  won  for  him  the  good  opinion  of  his  appreciating  coun 
trymen,  everywhere.  Although  a  self-taught  and  self-mad^ 
man,  he  has  few  superiors  in  debate  on  the  floor  of  the  senate- 


220  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

chamber,  and  fewer  equals  on  the  field,  in  the  perilous  hou« 
of  battle.  Indeed,  he  displays  equal  courage  and  coolness, 
whether  acting  in  the  capacity  of  statesman  or  soldier.  We 
admire  him  as  the  hero  of  San  Jacinto,  when  he  captures 
Santa  Anna,  and  we  applaud  him  as  the  herald  of  freedom, 
when  he  throttles  the  "little  giant"  of  Illinois,  and  virtually 
says  to  the  demagogue,  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan." 
He  is  one  of  nature's  noblemen,  whom  the  people  delight  to 
honor,  and  his  fame  will  be  fresh  in  the  memory  of  the  mul 
titude  when  the  name  of  Douglas  will  be  forgotten ;  or,  if 
remembered,  be  associated  with  Arnold  and  infamy.  Gen. 
Houston  is  tall  and  straight  as  an  Indian,  of  perfect  propor 
tions,  with  sharp  gray  eyes,  and  a  nose  like  the  beak  of  an 
eagle.  He  usually  wears  a  profusion  of  hair  upon  his  face. 
His  commanding  countenance  and  towering  figure  contrast 
finely  with  the  pigmy  proportions  and  plebeian  features  of  the 
ambitious  and  heartless  man  who  would  enslave  nations  for 
the  gratification  of  his  wicked  vanity.  I  am  indebted  to 
"  The  Men  of  the  Time  "  for  the  following  sketch  of  his  history : 
"  Gen.  Samuel  Houston,  United  States  senator  from  Texas, 
;vas  born  in  Rockbridge  county,  Virginia,  March  2,  1793. 
He  lost  his  father  when  quite  young,  and  his  mother  removed 
with  her  family  to  the  banks  of  the  Tennessee,  at  that  time  the 
limit  of  civilization.  Here  the  future  senator  received  but  a 
scanty  education ;  he  passed  several  years  among  the  Cherokee 
Indians,  and  in  fact,  through  all  his  life,  he  seems  to  have 
held  opinion  with  Rousseau,  and  retained  a  predilection  for  the 
savage  mode  of  life.  After  serving  for  a  time  as  clerk  to  a 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  221 

country  trader,  and  keeping  a  school,  he  became  disgusted 
with  mercantile  and  scholastic   pursuits,  and,  in   1813,  he 
enlisted  in  the  army,  and  served  under  General  Jackson  in 
the  war  with  the  Creek  Indians.     He  distinguished  himself 
highly  on  several  occasions,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  wai 
he  had  risen  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant ;  but  he  soon  resigned 
his  commission  and  commenced  the  study  of  law  at  Nash 
ville.     It  was  about  this  time  that  he  began  his  political  life, 
After  holding  several  minor  offices  in  Tennessee,  he  was,  in 
1823,  elected  to  Congress,  and  continued  a  member  of  that 
body  until,  in  182Y,  he  became  Governor  of  the  State  of  Ten 
nessee.     In  1829,  before  the  expiration  of  his  gubernatorial 
term,  he  resigned  his  office,  and  went  to  take  up  his  abode 
among  the  Cherokees  in  Arkansas.      During  his  residence 
among  the  Indians,  lie  became  acquainted  with  the  frauds 
practised  upon  them  by  government  agents,  and  undertook  a 
mission  to  Washington  for  the  purpose  of  exposing  them.    In 
the  execution  of  this  philanthropic  project  he  seems  to  have 
met  with  little  success ;  he  became  involved  in  several  law- 
suite,  and  returned  in  disgust  to  his  savage  friends.     During 
a  visit  to  Texas,  he  was  requested  to  allow  his  name  to  be 
used  in  the  canvass,  for  a  convention  which  was  to  meet  to 
form  a  constitution  for  Texas  prior  to  its  admission  into  the 
Mexican  union.     He  consented,  and  was  unanimously  elected. 
The  constitution  drawn  up  by  the  convention  was  rejected  by 
Santa  Anna,  at  that  time  in  power,  and  the  disaffection  of  the 
Texans  caused  thereby,  was  still  further  heightened  by  a  de 
mand  upon  them  to  give  up  their  arms.      They  determined 


222  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

upon  resistance ;  a  militia  was  organized,  and  Austin,  th$ 
founder  of  the  colony,  was  elected  commander-in-chief,  in 
which  office  he  was  shortly  after  succeeded  by  Houston.  He 
conducted  the  war  with  vigor  and  ability,  and  finally  brought 
it  to  a  successful  termination  by  the  battle  of  San  Jacinto, 
which  was  fought  in  April,  1836.  The  Mexicans  were  totally 
routed,  with  the  loss  of  several  hundred  men,  while  the  Tex- 
ans  had  but  seven  killed  and  thirty  wounded.  Santa  Anna 
himself  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victors,  and  it  was  with 
great  difficulty  that  they  were  prevented  from  taking  sum 
mary  vengeance  upon  him.  In  May,  1836,  he  signed  a  treaty 
acknowledging  the  independence  of  Texas,  and  in  October  of 
the  same  year,  Houston  was  inaugurated  the  first  president 
of  the  republic.  At  the  end  of  his  term  of  office,  as  the  same 
person  could  not  constitutionally  be  elected  president  twice  in 
succession,  he  became  a  member  of  the  congress.  In  1841, 
however,  he  was  again  elevated  to  the  presidential  chair. 
During  the  whole  time  that  he  held  that  office,  it  was  his 
favorite  policy  to  effect  the  annexation  of  Texas  to  the  United 
States,  but  he  retired  from  office  before  he  saw  the  consum 
mation  of  his  wishes.  In  1844,  Texas  became  one  of  the 
States  of  the  Union,  and  General  Houston  was  elected  to  the 
Sen»*^,of  which  body  he  is  still  a  member." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  223 


PIERRE   SOULE. 

PIERRE  SOULE,  formerly  senator  from  Louisiana,  now 
minister  at  the  court  of  Spain,  was  bom  in  France.  After 
receiving  a  collegiate  education,  while  yet  in  his  teens,  ho 
took  part  in  a  conspiracy  against  the  Bourbons,  which  fact 
being  discovered,  he  fled  to  a  small  village  where  he  assumed 
the  humble  occupation  of  a  shepherd.  At  the  termination  of 
twelve  months  or  more,  he  turned  his  steps  to  Paris,  where  he 
associated  with  Barthelemy  and  Mery  for  the  purpose  of  pub 
lishing  a  liberal  paper.  His  republican  sentiments  soon 
became  distasteful  to  the  authorities,  and  he  was  put  on  his 
trial  for  treason  ;  but  when  his  lawyer  appealed  to  the  court  for 
clemency  on  the  score  of  his  youth,  Soule  was  displeased  at 
this,  and  at  once  arose,  denying  the  criminality  of  his  conduct 
in  strains  of  impassioned  eloquence ;  but  his  speech  did  not 
save  him,  so  he  sought  an  asylum  in  the  United  States. 

He  landed  at  Baltimore,  but  took  up  his  residence  in  New 
Orleans,  in  the  fall  of  1825.  Having  studied  the  English  lan 
guage  and  the  law,  he  passed  a  very  creditable  examination, 
and  rose  rapidly  in  his  profession.  In  1847,  he  was  elected 
U.  S.  Senator  from  Louisiana,  and  was  re-elected  in  1849. 
He  is  a  graceful  and  eloquent  speaker ;  it  is  said,  indeed,  that 
the  mantle  of  Calhoun  has  fallen  upon  his  shoulders.  The 
slight  French  accent  which  marks  his  pronunciation,  is  as 
pleasant  as  a  dash  of  olive  oil  on  a  dish  of  salad.  He  is  a 


224  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

man  of  fine  proportions,  with  coal  black  hair ;  large  iuirrin. 
ous  eyes,  shining  like  black  moons  in  the  firmament  of  his 
handsome  face.  He  is  a  polished  gentleman,  a  successful 
lawyer,  a  respectable  but  not  a  profound  statesman.  He 
caught  the  filibuster  fever  at  Washington,  but  the  sea  air  and 
the  climate  of  Spain  have  proved  a  most  effectual  cure,  for  he 
broke  out  in  court  dress  there,  so  that  the  nation  understands 
the  diagnosis  of  his  disease. 


WM.  THACKERAY. 

I  HAVE  just  sharpened  my  pencil,  I  wish  I  could  sharpen 
my  wit  as  easily.  Now  I  will  fold  my  paper,  then  my  arms, 
and  wait  patiently  for  the  speaker.  There  he  comes;  that 
grey-haired  man,  who  approaches  the  desk,  must  be  the 
lecturer.  No,  that  is  the  sexton,  who  mounts  the  platform  to 
light  the  candles.  There  goes  a  silver-haired  man  toward 
the  organ  ;  I  am  told  Thackeray  is  prematurely  grey — that 
must  be  him.  Pshaw,  that's  the  organist !  That's  him,  the 
tall,  rosy,  robust  man,  whose  face  is  so  much  younger  than  his 
head,  it  looks  like  a  rose  under  a  snow-ball.  The  aristocracy 
of  Boston  are  present,  and  they  cheer  the  lecturer  faintly,  for 
kid  gloves  and  thin  boots  render  it  impossible  to  create  a  real 
rackety,  thackery,  thundering  welcome ;  besides  it  is  vulgar  to 
allow  one's  heart  to  throb  so  rapturously  as  to  reach  to  one's 
feet  and  fingers. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  225 

There  stands  the  great  satirist,  the  inimitable  humorist,  the 
famous  novelist.  He  can  crush  a  humbug  and  scare  the  blue 
devils  from  the  town,  as  easily  as  a  farmer  can  frighten  the 
crows  from  his  corn-field.  Thackeray  is  a  great  man,  and 
there  is  a  good  deal  of  him.  He  must  be  upwards  of  six 
feet  in  height,  for  he  towers  up  above  common  men  as 
the  Alps  tower  above  common  mountains,  and  like  the  Alps 
he  is  crowned  with  snow.  He  has  a  wide  forehead  of 
respectable  height ;  eyebrows,  handsomely  arched  and  neatly 
pencilled ;  fat  English  cheeks  (such  as  roast  beef,  plum  pud 
ding,  and  pure  air  can  make) ;  a  pair  of  unfrosted  whiskers 
(that  appear  in  the  distance  like  an  inch  and  a  half  of  mouse- 
colored  moss,  under  his  ears) ;  heavy  aristocratic  chin  and 
finely  chiselled  mouth.  A  low  black  stock  hugs  a  linen  col 
lar,  too  lazy  to  stand  erect — his  shirt  bosom  is  unjewelled 
(real  gentlemen  in  Europe  are  never  bedizened  with  jewelry), 
a  plain  watch  guard,  terminating  in  a  cross  of  gold  which 
leans  against  his  dark  vest,  is  all  the  ornament  that  is  visible 
on  his  person.  See  what  a  free  and  easy,  I  may  add,  indolent, 
way  he  has  of  leaning  on  the  desk,  and  lolling  from  side  to 
side ;  then  his  hearty,  healthy  face,  lit  up  with  eyes  that 
gleam  through  golden  spectacles,  seems  to  say,  "  How-de-do, 
Jonathan  ?  you  have  given  me  a  generous  welcome ;  you  are 
not  a  fair  weather  friend,  for  the  inclement  skies  and  the 
streets  of  mire  and  clay  have  not  detained  you  at  home." 

It  is  not  enthusiasm,  nor  a  propensity  to  over-estimate  the 
worth  of  Mr.  Thackeray,  that  induces  me  to  say  the  lecture  to 
which  I  now  listen  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  in?fruo 


226  CRAYON   SKETCHES,   AND 

tive  lectures  I  have  heard.  He  has  a  clear  voice,  and  reads 
right  on  with  little  gesture.  The  sly  satire,  and  sharp  jest,  do 
not  stumble  at  the  red  threshold  of  his  mouth,  but  come  forth 
gracefully  as  though  used  to  the  way.  Those  who  do  not 
wish  to  have  the  skeletons  of  their  character  rattle  in  the 
winds  at  the  cross-roads,  must  take  heed  and  not  fall  into  the 
hands  of  Thackeray,  for  he  has  the  power  to  gibbet  men  so 
high  the  whole  world  can  gaze  at  the  victims.  No  one  how 
ever,  need  be  afraid  of  him,  unless  he  be  a  quack,  a  humbug, 
or  a  tyrant,  for  he  has  a  heart  brimful  of  pity  and  running 
over  with  pathos.  He  is  so  far  in  advance  of  the  age,  not  a 
few  old  fogies  who  would  like  to  admire  him,  because  he  is 
endorsed  by  the  first  men  in  Europe,  dare  not,  for  reasons  best 
known  to  themselves. 

As  for  the  juvenile  criticism  elicited  by  his  lectures,  it 
reminds  one  of  a  giant  running  the  gauntlet  between  rows  of 
Liliputians.  Shoot  away,  ye  grass-hoppers,  armed  with  pop 
guns.  Don't  be  afraid,  the  grand  jury  will  never  indict  you 
for  murder,  for  you  cannot  kill,  and  if  you  could  you  are  not 
accountable. 

Every  person  in  the  Melodeon  fell  in  love  with  Steele,  when 
the  speaker,  in  his  own  peculiar  manner,  said  he  was  "a 
black-eyed,  soft-hearted,  Irish  boy,"  and  their  affection 
for  him  did  not  wane  the  least  when  he  continued,  "  he  was  a 
lazy,  good-natured,  generous,  good  for  nothing,  talented  boy, 
fond  of  lolly-pop,  had  an  early  taste  for  sack,  and  the  gift  to 
borrow  money  of  his  school-mates"  (I  do  not  quote  verba 
tim).  The  speaker  here  introduced  a  brief  history  of  his  owr 


OJFF-IIAND    TAKINGS.        .  227 

experience  at  school.  Said  he  had  seen  many  great  men,  but 
none  so  great  as  the  head  boy  at  school ;  and  when  he  had 
met  such  in  after  years,  he  was  astonished  to  find  them  not 
more  than  six  feet  tall,  and  was  surprised  they  had  not 
become  prime  ministers.  He  said,  Addison  was  head  boy  at 
the  school  Steele  attended. 

Mr.  Thackeray  was  exceedingly  happy  in  his  description  of 
Steele  as  a  soldier,  "  when  he  became  deep  in  debt  and  deep 
in  drink."  Steele  was  not  a  teetotaller,  for  after  he  had 
become  a  Minister,  and  after  he  had  written  the  "  Christian 
Hero,"  he  would  put  on  his  wig,  cap,  and  laced  coat,  kiss  his 
wife  and  children,  tell  a  lie  to  them  about  his  pressing  engage 
ments,  and  heeler  over  to  the  "  Rose,"  and  have  a  jollification 
with  his  bottle  companions.  Addison  was  willing  to  assist 
him,  but  found  it  impossible  to  keep  the  tipsy  man  upon  his 
legs.  Steele  deserved  the  admiration  and  affection  of  woman, 
for  he  was  the  first  of  that  age  to  appreciate  her  worth. 
Swift  and  Addison  were  ungallant,  but  Steele  set  a  proper 
estimate  upon  woman.  He  dedicated  one  of  his  books  to  his 
wife,  and  im  the  four  hundred  letters  written  to  her,  mani 
fested  the  traits  of  true  love.  He  was  married  twice  and  out 
lived  his  wife,  his  fortune,  and  his  health. 

The  above  is  a  very  imperfect  sketch  of  the  lecture,  dashed 
off  in  a  crowd,  with  my  hat  for  a  writing-desk.  Thackeray- 
seems  blest  with  an  intuitive  perception  for  distinguishing  the, 
difference  between  what  things  are  and  what  they  ought  to, 
be.  "  The  world  is  a  stage  "  and  men  are  players,  fyui  he  haa 
&  box  to  himself,  and  an  opera  glass  with  cleaj;  len£. 


228  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

he  sits,  weeping  at  the  tragedy  and  laughing  at  the  comedy 
of  life. 

He  has  a  profound  insight  into  human  nature,  and  knows 
exactly  how  far  to  go  and  precisely  the  place  to  stop  at,  when 
he  vibrates  between  the  sublime  and  the  ridiculous.  His  wit 
is  refined  and  effectual,  because  it  is  based  on  the  detection  of 
unlooked-for  resemblance  or  dissimilarity  of  ideas,  rather 
than  words.  He  is  not  like  Falstaff,  who  in  a  double  sense 
made  a  butt  of  himself,  first  by  swallowing  so  much  sack, 
secondly  by  his  frequent  allusions  to  himself.  There  is  good 
sense,  and  practical  wisdom,  elevation,  and  enthusiasm  in  the 
wit  of  Thackeray,  and  however  sharp  may  be  the  sting,  there 
certainly  is  no  spleen  in  his  satire.  His  forte  lies  in  describ 
ing  the  characters  of  men,  their  modes  of  dress,  their  pecu 
liar  gestures,  their  different  humors,  their  singular  manners, 
their  style  of  speaking  and  writing.  He  amuses  by  his  coin 
cidences  and  contradictions,  he  surprises  by  his  comparison? 
and  combinations.  His  lectures  are  not  darned  and  patched 
with  epigrams,  quips,  quirks,  and  conundrums.  There  is  no 
leaving  of  the  high  way  of  his  discourse  for  the  purpose  of 
lugging  in  a  metaphor  to  enliven  it.  All  the  figures  rise  up 
naturally  out  of  the  subject,  as  blossoms  break  out  under  the 
genial  sunshine  of  Spring.  Mr.  Thackeray's  visit  to  this 
city  will  brush  the  dust  from  the  old  classic  authors  who 
have  been  shamefully  slighted  for  several  years  past  in  this 
country,  while  the  masses  have  been  satisfied  with  the  lolly- 
pop  literature  of  the  present  age.  No  offence  to  the  book 
makers,  for  my  enemies  can  say,  that  I  too  have  written  a  book 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  220 


JOHN  PIERPONT. 

* 

And  girded  for  thy  constant  strife  with  wrong, 
Like  Nehemiah,  fighting  while  he  wrought 

The  broken  walls  of  Zion,  even  thy  song 
Hath  a  rude  martial  tone,  a  blow  in  every  thought. 

WHITTIER  TO  PIERPONT 

THE  purchased  puff — the  hurrah  of  the  mob — the  presenta- 

0 

tion  of  medals — the  multitude  at  one's  heels — are  not  fame. 
Fame  is  the  spirit  of  man's  genius,  which  lives  in  the  minds  of 
others,  while  he  lives  and  after  he  is  dead ;  for  fame  is  immor 
tal.  Popularity  is  ephemeral,  and  bears  the  same  relationship 
to  fame  that  shadow  bears  to  substance.  The  gross  Esau 
would  sell  his  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage.  He  would 
mortgage  the  blessing  of  his  father  for  personal  gratification ; 
while  the  man  of  true  genius  waits  hopefully  for  the  homage 
which  will  surely  be  paid  to  the  everlasting  forms  of  truth  and 
beauty  he  has  left  on  record,  as  the  reflections  of  his  own 
mind.  Like  Jacob,  he  sees  a  ladder  of  light  reaching  to 
heaven.  He  thinks  little  of  himself  and  much  of  his  subject. 
He  aims  at  perfection  and  not  popularity.  He  turns  his  back 
on  the  past,  and  his  face  towards  the  future.  He  is  willing 
to  abide  the  decision  of  posterity. — hence  he  speaks  the  truth. 
Men  of  true  genius  are  men  of  progress ;  they  are  reformers. 
Whoever  saw  a  verse  of  genuine  poetry  in  defence  of  oppres 


230  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

sion?  What  tyrant  ever  wrote  a  stanza  of  pure  poetry? 
Genius  never  glows  in  the  heart  of  a  tyrant,  and  Fame  will 
never  build  her  temple  over  his  ashes.  John  Pierpont,  the 
preacher  and-  poet,  is  a  man  on  whose  shoulders  the  mantle 
of  true  genius  has  fallen.  His  pen  is  never  elegantly  feeble. 
He  never  gives  you  the  glitter  of  fine  words  for  the  gold  of 
pure  thought.  He  does  not  cringe  and  creep  and  bow  and 
lisp  like  a  literary  fop  ;  but  like  a  brave,  honest,  earnest  man, 
as  he  is,  speaks  the  sentiments  that  are  born  in  his  soul.  He 
is  an  artist,  who  thinks  the  picture  of  more  consequence  than 

the  frame.     He  will  not  spoil  a  good  thought  for  the  purpose 

% 
of  saying  a  good  thing.     He  loves  Nature  more  than  he  fears 

the  Critic,  and  never  commits  infanticide  on  his  ideas,  at  their 
birth,  for  fear  they  should  hereafter  be  murdered  by  some 
hypocritical  reviewer.  The  themes  selected  by  him  are  con 
genial  to  his  heart.  Is  there  a  temple  to  be  dedicated  to  the 
service  of  God  ?  his  muse,  with  harp  in  hand,  stands  between 
the  porch  and  the  alfar.  Is  there  a  monument  to  be  erected 
over  the  dust  of  departed  heroes  ?  he  there  builds  a  pyramid 
of  verse  that  will  stand  when  the  stones  shall  have  fallen  in 
decay.  Is  there  a  crisis  in  the  cause  of  reform,  when  the 
great  heart  of  humanity  must  speak  or  break  ?  his  words  are 
its  throbs,  his  song  its  sentiments. 

No  reform  poet  in  America  is  so  great  a  favorite  among 
the  elite  and  literati  as  Mr.  Pierpont,  Perhaps  no  man  in 
this  country  receives  as  many  invitations  to  read  poetry  before 
lyceums  and  colleges  as  he.  At  Harvard  and  New  Haven, 
and  every  other  place  where  genius  is  appreciated,  he  is, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  231 

welcome.  Notwithstanding  this  fact,  Godey  and  Graham, 
and  other  lords  in  the  kingdom  of  magazinedom  never  employ 
his  pen.  The  best  effusions  of  his  classical  quill  are  found  in 
the  reform  journals,  for  he  does  not  deem  it  beneath  his 
dignity  to  contribute  to  the  columns  of  the  papers  that  are 
not  fashionable  and  popular. 

Holmes  is  the  poet  of  taste  and  fashion,  cheerful,  gay,  and 
light  as  Ariel.  Should  he  prick  a  sinner  with  his  stiletto,  ho 
would  at  once  apologize,  by  declaring  he  was  in  fun,  and 
hoped  no  offence.  Longfellow  is  so  nice  and  elegant,  he 
sometimes  does  injustice  to  his  noble  nature ;  but  he  is  fond 
of  freedom,  and  sympathizes  with  the  men  of  progress. 
Lowell  is  a  radical,  wielding  a  two-edged  sword  when  he  is 
aroused ;  he  belongs  to  no  school  but  his  own.  His  muse  is 
a  jolly  jade,  with  the  thumb  on  her  nose  and  all  fingers  of 
both  hands  vibrating,  when  she  would  pour  contempt  upon  a 
national  sin.  Sprague's  poetry  is  as  current  and  more  valuable 
than  the  bank  bills  that  bear  his  signature.  Whittier  is  the 
poet  of  the  slave.  Pierpont  is  emphatically  the  Temperance 
Poet. 

See  him  standing  in  that  magnificent  Music  Hall,  reading 
his  poem  before  the  members  of  the  Mercantile  Library 
Society.  He  is  straight  as  a  palm-tree,  fanned  by  the  "  airs 
of  Palestine,"  his  snow-white  hair  looks  like  a  halo  of  glory 
about  his  head,  and  the  rosy  glow  of  health  upon  fcis  face,  shows 
that  his  heart  can  never  grow  old.  Few  men  of  his  years 
(he  is  upwards  of  sixty)  have  been  young  so  long  as  he ;  few 
men  of  his  age  are  so  young  as  he  is  now.  He  always 


232  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

dresses  neatly,  and  lias  an  air  of  military  compactness,  looks 
well  in  the  street  or  on  the  platform.  His  eyes  are  blue  and 
brilliant ;  forehead  stamped  with  the  lines  of  intellectual 
superiority ;  temperament  sanguine-nervous.  In  any  audience 
he  would  be  singled  out  as  a  leader.  As  a  speaker  he  is 
always  interesting — often  eloquent.  There  is  a  rich  vein  of 
poetry  running  through  his  sermons  and  speeches,  which 
enhances  the  value  of  his  efforts.  While  speaking,  he  stands 
erect,  and  has  a  habit  of  shaking  his  hand,  with  his  forefinger 
extended,  when  he  is  earnestly  emphatic  on  any  particular 
subject  under  discussion,  at  the  same  time  moving  his  head, 
while  his  eyes  flash  as  though  he  was  shaking  stars  out  of  his 
forehead.  I  wish  I  had  space  for  a  more  extended  specimen 
of  his  poetry.  The  following  beautiful  and  melodious  stanz.'ia 
are  real  poetry  without  a  waste  word : — 

Was  it  the  chime  of  a  tiny  bell, 

That  came  so  sweet  to  my  dreaming  ear, — 
Like  the  silvery  tones  of  a  fairy  shell 

That  winds  on  the  beach,  so  mellow  and  clear, 
When  the  winds  and  the  waves  lie  together  asleep, 
And  the  moon  and  the  fairy  are  watching  the  deep, 
She,  dispensing  her  silvery  light, 
And  he,  his  notes  as  silvery  quite, 
While  the  boatman  listens  and  ships  his  oar, 
To  catch  the  music  that  comes  from  the  shore  ? 
Hark  !  the  notes,  on  my  ear  that  play, 
Are  set  to  words  : — as  they  float  they  say, 

"  Passing  away !  passing  away !" 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  23.'] 

v 

But  no ;  it  was  not  a  fairy's  shell, 

Blown  on  the  bea«h,  so  mellow  and  clear  •, 
Nor  was  it  the  tongue  of  a  silver  bell, 

Striking  the  hour  that  filled  my  car, 
As  I  lay  in  my  dream  5  yet  it  was  a  chime 
That  told  of  the  flow  of  the  stream  of  time, 
For  a  beautiful  clock  from  the  ceiling  hung, 
And  a  plump  little  girl,  for  a  pendulum  swung 
(As  you've  sometimes  seen  in  a  little  ring 
That  hangs  in  his  cage,  a  canary  bird  swing) ; 

And  she  held  in  her  bosom  a  budding  bouquet, 

And  as  she  enjoyed  it,  she  seemed  to  say 

"  Passing  away !  passing  away !" 

Where  is  the  voter  in  America  who  has  not  heard  the 
following  extract  from  a  popular  poem  entitled  the  Ballot- 
Box  ?  I  quote  from  memory : 

We  have  a  weapon  firmer  set, 

And  better  than  the  bayonet, 

A  weapon  that  comes  down  as  still 

As  snow-flakes  fall  upon  the  sod, 
Yet  executes  a  freeman's  will, 

As  lightning  does  the  will  of  God. 

Perhaps  no  temperance  poem  ever  had  so  wide  a  circulation 
as  the  "Two  Incendiaries,"  recently  published  in  the  Life 
Boat.  Here  is  a  verse  as  pure,  sparkling,  and  refreshing  as  the 

rain. 

Ye  gracious  clouds !  ye  deep,  cold  walls, 
Ye  gems,  from  mossy  rocks  that  drip ! 

Springs,  that  from  earth's  mysterious  cells 
Gush  o'er  your  granite  basin's  lip ! 


234  CRAYON"    SKETCHES,  AND 

To  you  I  look : — your  largess  give, 
And  I  will  drink  of  you  and  live. 

Mr.  P.  is  the  author  of  the  Airs  of  Palestine,  a  poem  of 
nearly  a  thousand  lines  in  the  heroic  measure — for  sublimity 
of  thought,  benuty  of  expression,  and  graceful  versification,  it 
is  unexcelled  by  any  American  production. 

Mr.  P.  is  a  native  of  Litchfield,  Conn.  He  entered  Yale 
College  when  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  graduated  in  the 
Bummer  of  1804.  Afterwards  he  engaged  in  teaching,  which 
he  soon  relinquished  for  the  study  of  law.  The  practice  of 
law  not  agreeing  with  his  health,  he  entered  into  mercantile 
pursuits,  which  resulted  disastrously  in  1816,  but  his  loss  was 
our  gain.  Not  long  after  his  failure  he  began  to  prepare  for 
the  pulpit.  Left  Harvard  University  in  1818.  In  1819  he 
was  chosen  pastor  of  the  Hollis  street  church,  where  he 
remained  nineteen  years.  He  is  now  pastor  of  a  flourishing 
church  in  Medford.  May  he  long  live  to  entertain,  -enlighten, 
and  bless  the  brotherhood  of  man. 

The  extract  which  follows  is  taken  from  an  Address  deli 
vered  to  his  unrelenting  persecutors  in  the  Hollis  street  church 
Boston.  They  assailed  him  with  the  most  persevering  malig 
nity  because  he  rebuked  them  kindly  but  earnestly  and 
repeatedly  for  manufacturing  and  selling  intoxicating  liquors. 
He  triumphed  over  them  all,  for  he  had  the  Law  as  well  as 
the  Gospel  on  his  side.  Want  of  space  is  my  excuse  for  not 
indulging  the  reader  with  a  more  extended  specimen  of  Mr. 
Pierpont's  chaste  and  beautiful  prose. 

"  And  now,  my  brethren,  as  this  may  possibly  be  the  last 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  . 

counsel  that,  as  your  minister,  I  may  ever  have  an  opportunity 
to  give  you,  those  of  you  especially,  who  have  been  most 
active  in'  disquieting  the  sheep  of  this  Christian  fold,  by  your 
persecution  of  its  .shepherd — indulge  me,  I  pray  you,  in  one 
word  more  of  cownsel.  The  time  is  coming  when  you  will 
thank  me  for  it;  thank  me  the  more  heartilj,  the  more 
promptly  you  follow  it.  Desist — I  counsel  you  to  desist,  from 
that  part  of  your  business  which  has  been  the  cause  of  all 
this  unhappy  controversy  ;  the  cause  of  your  troubles,  and 
of  my  trials  and  triumph — for  I  shall  be  triumphant  at  last. 
Desist  from  the  business  that,  through  the  poverty  of  many, 
has  made  you  rich — that  has  put  you  into  your  palaces  by 
driving  them,  through  hovels  and  prisons,  down  into  the  gates 
of  the  grave.  Abandon  the  business  that  is  kindling  the 
fires  of  hatred  upon  your  own  hearth-stones,  and  pouring 
poison  into  the  veins  of  your  children — yea,  and  of  your 
children's  children,  and  sending  the  shriek  of  delirium  through 
their  chambers — the  business  that  is  now  scourging  our  good 
land  as  pestilence  and  war  have  never  scourged  it ;  nay,  the 
business,  in  prosecuting  which  you  are,  even  now,  carrying  a 
curse  to  all  the  continents  of  the  world,  and  making  our 
country  a  stench  in  the  nostrils  of  the  nations.  I  counsel  you 
to  stay  your  hands  from  this  work  of  destruction,  and  wash 
them  of  this  great  iniquity,  as  becomes  the  disciples  of  Him 
who  came  not  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but  to  save  them.  As 
His  disciples,  I  counsel  you  no  longer  to  absent  yourselves 
from  your  wonted  place  of  worship,  and  to  return  to  your 
allegiance  to  your  church  and  to  God.  Say  to  your  minister, 


236  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant!  you  have  faithfully 
done  the  work  that  you  were  ordained  to  do.  You  have 
neither  spared  us  nor  feared  us.  You  have  even  wounded 
us ;  but  faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend.  We  commend 
you  for  your  work,  and  charge  you  to  go  on  with  it,  that  we 
may  meet  together,  and  rejoice  together  in  the  presence  of 


\ 
OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  237 


HORACE  GREELEY. 

THE  subject  of  this  sketch  is  the  prince  of  paragraphists— 
the  Napoleon  of  Essayists.  For  years  he  has  employed  his 
talents  in  winding  and  unwinding  the  "tangled  yarn"  of 
human  affairs  in  Church  and  State — in  Philosophy  and 
Politics — in  Art  and  Literature.  He  is  the  great  recording 
secretary  of  this  Continent,  employed  by  the  masses  to  take 
notes  and  print  them.  His  business  is  to  "  hold  the  mirror  up 
to  Nature,  and  show  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time  its 
form  and  pressure."  He  has  the  pluck  to  say  as  an  editor 
what  he  feels  as  a  man — when  he  forgets  that  he  is  a  politi 
cian.  It  is  then  that  we  find  truth  without  concealment,  and 
genuine  operi-heartedness  without  wire-working  behind  the 
curtain.  It  is  then  he 

"  pours  out  all  as  plain 

As  downright  Shippen,  or  as  old  Montaigne." 

Notwithstanding  his  wayward  whims — his  eccentric  man 
ners — his  love  of  the  intangible  ideal — his  faith  in  Fourierism 
• — his  responses  to  spirit-rappers — his  man-worship  when 
Henry  Clay  was  the  human  god — he  is  still  the  model  Editor 
and  the  leader  of  the  "  press  gang ;"  and  the  columns  of  The 
Tribune  afford  a  panoramic  view  of  the  American  world  as  it 


238  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  ANTO 

is.  Greeley  is  a  pen  pugilist  (but  never  a  bully),  and  Woe 
betide  the  unlucky  wight  that  begins  the  assault.  Is  he  a 
clergyman  ? — then  duodecimos,  octavos,  and  quartos  of  eccle 
siastical  history  will  be  hurled  at  his  head,  and  he  cannot 
dodge  them  though  he  makes  a  coward's  castle  of  the  pulpit. 

Is  he  a  political  man? — then  he  must  be  right,  or  he  will 
be  flagellated,  if  he  ventures  to  measure  lances  with  one  who 
is  a  walking  register,  and  familiar  with  every  important  politi 
cal  event  that  has  transpired  for  the  last  twenty  years.  He 
has  more  than  a  usual  knowledge  of  the  past.  His  writings 
embrace  every  variety  of  style — classic  beauty,  exquisite 
poetry,  graphic  description,  vapid  commonplace,  the  full  sun- 
blaze  of  originality,  the  moon  in  the  mist,  and  the  ignis  fa tuus 
light  of  whimsical  nonsense.  It  is  but  just,  however,  to  sayr 
that  he  rarely  troubles  his  readers  with  verbiage  or  pedantry. 
He  gives  us  his  immediate  impressions  of  things,  and  his 
style  depends  somewhat  upon  the  state  of  his  health  and  the 
leisure  at  his  disposal.  He  does  not  stop  to  tack  on  syllables 
to  make  a  sentence  even,  nor  measure  periods  so  that  they 
will  be  as  mathematically  correct  as  the  vibrations  of  a  pen 
dulum  ;  but  he  dashes  on,  heedless  of  consequences.  His 
widely  circulated  journal  contains  good  specimens  of  acute 
wit,  critical  reasoning,  solid  argument,  brilliant  invective,  pro 
found  philosophy,  beautiful  poetry,  and  moving  eloquence, 
mixed  with  the  opposites  of  these. 

Mr.  Greeley  is  entirely  free  from  heartless  bigotry  or  hypo 
critical  obstinacy.  He  is  benevolent  in  his  disposition,  affable 
and  sociable  in  his  manners,  often  speaks  in  public,  and,  owing 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  239 

to  his  fame  as  a  writer,  attracts  considerable  attention ;  but  he 
is  pretty  sure  to  disappoint  his  hearers,  for  he  has  not  suffi 
cient  eloquence  as  an  orator,  to  buoy  up  the  reputation  he  has 
won  as  a  writer.  His  manner  is  uncouth,  his  matter  often 
dry,  and  his  person  by  no  means  prepossessing.  Here  permit 
me  to  say,  that  his  careless,  slipshod,  slovenly  way  of  dressing 
his  person,  has  rendered  him  a  man  of  mark  and  remark. 
His  white  hat  and  white  coat  have  been  immortalized,  because 
they  are  ever  worn  and  everlasting.  If  this  Whig  prophet 
had  more  dignity  and  more  dandyism,  he  would  be  less 
popular  with  the  masses,  but  a  great  favorite  with  uppercrust- 
dom. 

Mr.  Greeley  is  a  practical  printer,  and  has  risen  to  his  pre 
sent  eminence  by  his  untiring  industry,  his  unconquerable 
perseverance,  and  extraordinary  talents.  No  man  in  this 
nation  controls  public  opinion  more  than  he.  He  is  a  Grand 
Marshal  in  the  great  army  of  reformers,  not  afraid  or  ashamed 
to  speak — to  commit  himself,  save  when  his  party  may  suffer 
by  the  act.  He  -is  a  patriot  Whig,  a  philanthropic  Whig,  a 
temperance  Whig,  an  anti-slavery  Whig,  a  Whig  writer,  a 
Whig  speaker,  the  editor  of  a  Whig  paper,  and  that  paper 
one  of  the  very  best  in  the  United  States. 

No  wonder  Mr.  Greeley  knows  so  well  how  to  meet  the 
wants  and  washes  of  his  patrons,  for  lie  has  been  in  the  world 
ever  since  he  was  born,  and  has  been  in  various  situations  in  life 
• — charcoal  burner  and  member  of  Congress.  Mr.  Greeley  is 
about  forty  years  of  age,  of  nervous  temperament,  has  a  large 
head — too  large  for  his  vital  organs — a  pale  complexion,  small 


240  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

eyes,  sunk  under  a  dumpling  forehead,  a  very  scanty  supply 
of  very  soft,  white  hair  (not  grey),  which  will  not  grow  in 
front,  but  makes  up  the  deficiency  by  a  patriarchal  over 
growth  behind. 

When  the  reader  beholds  a  man  with  an  old  white  hat 
stuck  on  the  back  of  the  cranium,  and  leaving  the  forehead 
bare,  a  shirt-collar  neckerchiefless  and  unbuttoned,  a  vest 
which  looks  as  though  it  had  been  put  on  with  a  pitch-fork, 
a  pair  of  trowsers  with  one  leg  stuck  in  a  coarse  boot  and  the 
other  striving  in  vain  to  reach  the  ankle,  a  coat  that  seems 
to  have  been  blown  upon  his  back,  and  pockets  filled  with 
exchange  papers — he  may  be  sure  he  sees  Horace  Greeley. 

This  gentleman  is  a  dietarian ;  eats  coarse,  plain  food, 
drinks  nothing  but  cold  water,  bathes  daily,  and  sleeps  upon 
a  hard  bed. 

In  conclusion,  permit  me  to  say,  that  Mr.  Greeley  is  a  man 
whose  virtuous  life,  abstemious  habits,  generous  deeds,  and 
magnificent  talents,  entitle  him  to  the  admiration  of  his  fellow 
men. 

The  following  sketch  of  Horace  Greeley  "  at  home "  we  re 
cently  found  in  a  newspaper,  the  name  of  which  we  do  not 
now  remember. 

Some  of  our  readers  may  like  to  hear  of  Horace  Greeley,  in 
his  sanctum,  and  for  their  benefit  we  quote  a  description  of 
these  indispensable  "  appendages  "  to  the  leading  newspaper 
establishment  of  the  country. 

Mr.   Greeley's   personal  appearance  and  eccentricities  are 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  241 

known  the  country  through  ;  the  former,  doubtless,  better,  pre- 
vio^is  to  his  European  tour  and  visit  to  the  World's  Fair,  than 
since,  as  he  is  said  to  have  returned  home  in  costume  which 
would  pass  current  on  the  Boulevards  of  Paris.  Despite  this 
"  turning  of  the  coats,"  as  long  as  he  shall  be  remembered, 
even  so  long  will  the  fame  of  that  very  white  integument,  with 
hat,  boots  and  etceteras,  also  survive  in  the  memory  of  man. 
Accompanied  by  the  reader,  let  us  make  our  way  to  the 
fourth  story  of  the  '  Tribune  Buildings,  corner  Spruce  and 
Nassau  streets,  opposite  the  City  Hall ' — as  the  notice  on  the 
first  page  of  the  '  Tribune '  directs  us.  Passing  through  a  good- 
sized  room — in  which  we  see  half  a  dozen  men  busily  engaged 
with  pen,  ink,  and  paper — we  enter  a  small  snug  apartment. 
Mr.  Greeley  is  invariably  "  at  home,"  except  when  travelling 
abroad,  which  he  does  pretty  often,  at  the  proper  season,  of 
late  years.  We  take  it  for  granted,  therefore,  that  he  is  at 
his  post,  as  we  make  him  our  imaginary  call.  There  he 
stands  at  a  desk,  much  like  a  plain  counting-room  desk, 
totally  absorbed  in  writing  or  in  his  papers.  This  desk  is 
very  high,  reaching  nearly  or  quite  to  a  level  with  his  eyes, 
and  his  arm  rests  upon  it,  the  elbow  higher  than  his  head. 
We  believe  he  invariably  writes  in  a  standing  position,  and 
his  desk  is  so  constructed  (as  we  have  intimated)  that  he  looks 
up  rather  than  down  to  his  paper.  He  is  so  constant  at  his 
work  and  so  near-sighted  withal,  that  he  is  obliged  to  follow 
this  habit,  or  bend  quite  double.  There  are  papers,  pamphlets, 
and  a  book  or  two  on  his  desk,  and  quantities  of  the  former 
scattered  over  the  floor 

11 


242  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

The  distinguished  Editor  does  not  notice  us,  as  we  enter  tho 
room,  nor  would  lie  apprehend  that  he  was  intruded  upon 
were  we  to  remain  all  day  and  not  make  oursel\Tes  known. 
If  we  are  strangers,  and  it  is  apparent  that  we  "  drop  in  "  out 
of  mere  idle  curiosity,  when  he  has  nodded  his  head  to  us,  in 
response  to  our  interruption,  he  resumes  his  labors,  and  we 
may  as  well  "  clear  out,"  first  as  last,  for  we  shall  receive  no 
further  attention  from  him.  Those  unacquainted  with  his 
business  might  well  consider  this  "hard  usage,"  but  the 
reasonable  reader  (whom  we  are  presumed  to  have  in  our 
company)  will  recognise  this  course  of  conduct,  as  a  rule. 
His  daily  visiters  may  be  reckoned  by  the  hundred,  and  were 
he  to  play  "the  agreeable"  to  each  and  every  one,  the  sum 
total  of  his  day's  work  would  count  an  insignificant  footing. 
On  the  other  hand — if  we  happen  to  be  "  particular  friends," 
politically,  he  will  give  us  due  attention,  and  we  shall  get 
posted  up  on  the  "  state  of  things,"  and  very  likely  receive  some 
excellent  practical  advice,  touching  our  future  public  events. 

Mr.  Greeley  has  been  through  life  emphatically  a  great 
worker.  Otherwise,  it  is  plain,  he  could  never  have  accom 
plished  the  immense  amount  of  work  he  has  done.  A  near 
friend  of  his,  at  the  time  when  he  first  independently  ventured 
into  newspaperdom,  has  assured  us  that  he  closely  applied 
himself  from  fifteen  to  eighteen  hours  per  day.  Since  he  has 
become  firmly  established,  he  has  in  a  degree,  relaxed  his 
efforts,  but  we  know  of  no  harder  working  editor,  at  this 
day — and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal  for  Mr.  Greeley's  industry 
and  perseverance. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  243 

Mr.  Greeley  is  a  quick  composer  and  a  rapid  writer 
Printers,  pronounce  his  manuscript  decidedly  worse  than  that 
of  any  other  editor  in  the  land,  which  is  setting  it  at  a  very 
low  notch  indeed.  In  putting  it  in  type,  they  declare  they 
take  it  for  what  it  ought  to  be,  rather  than  what  it  seems  to 
be.  Lines  on  paper  are  of  no  use  to  him ;  he  persists  that 
the  pen  should  be  a  free  agent,  and,  to  be  consistent,  lets  it 
take  pretty  much  its  own  course.  The  fac  simile  of  Byron's 
chirography  in  the  large  edition  of  this  writer's  works  is  really 
reasonable,  compared  with  Greeley's  ordinary  manuscript. 

We  have,  perhaps,  deviated  somewhat  from  the  object  of 
our  visit ;  but,  as  we  have  described,  we  claim  to  belong 
exclusively  to  Greeley  and  his  sanctum  sanctorum.  This  last 
is  a  perfectly  plain,  unpretending  room,  and  the  only  article 
in  it  having  anything  the  air  "of  luxuriousness  is  a  good  old- 
fashioned  lounge,  upon  which,  it  is  said,  he  sometimes  takes  a 
snooze.  We  are  told  that  this  remarkable  man  has  the  very 
convenient  faculty  of  working  as  long  as  there  is  anything  to 
be  done,  and  then  sitting  down  in  a  chair,  or  reclining  upon 
his  lounge,  and  finding  refreshing  rest  in  sleep.  Truly,  a  rare 
and  a  comfortable  habit,  and  admirably  adapted  to  the  neces 
sities  of  such  a  man. 

But,  having  exhausted  our  knowledge  and  "  said  our  say  " 
of  the  room  and  its  occupant,  remembering  that  we  treat  of 
one,  with  whom  the  corner-stone  of  all  rhetorical  virtues  is  to 
stop  when  you  are  done,  let  us  take  ourselves  off — casting  back 
a  lingering  glance  at  the  form  of  our  friend,  at  his  work,  with 
brain,  and  quill,  and  nose  converged  and  concentrate — and 


244  CRAYOX    SKETCHES,   AND 

sending  up  our  earnest  aspirations  that  he  may  live  to  stand 
at  his  old  desk,  and  drive  his  powerful  and  faithful  pen  fof 
the  Truth  and  Right,— and  so  "  leave  him  alone  in  his  glory." 

In  the  year  1830  and  1831,  he  worked  as  an  apprentice  in 
a  printing  office  in  Erie,  Pa.,  for  fifty  dollars  a  year ;  out  of 
that  sum  he  saved  enough  to  buy  his  father  a  yoke  of  steers 
— $25  or  $30 — clothed  himself,  and  laid  by  what  paid  his 
expenses  to  New  York.  His  father  at  that  time  was  very 
poor,  living  on  a  small  piece  of  rugged  hemlock  land,  near 
the  line  of  Crawford  co.,  Pa.,  and  Chatauque  county,  N.  Y. 
The  whole  of  the  worldly  gear  of  Horace,  when  he  started  for 
the  city  to  make  his  fortune,  might  be  summed  up  in  a  short 
schedule — a  suit  of  blue  cotton  jeans,  two  brown  shirts,  chip 
hat,  and  brogans,  and  less  than  five  dollars  in  money. 

And  now,  at  this  moment,  he  is  wielding  an  influence 
greater  perhaps  than  any  other  man  in  America.  He  is  the 
editor-in-chief  of  the  New  York  Tribune.  Mr.  Greeley  is 
a  model  worker,  temperate,  economical,  industrious,  and  a 
ready  writer.  He'  will  make  a  mark  upon  the  world,  and  be 
numbered  among  the  leading  spirits  of  the  NINETEENTH  CEN 
TURY. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


MOSES   GRANT, 

MOSES  GKANT  has  obtained  a  world-wide  celebrity,  by  his 
untiring  efforts  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  unfortunate 
children  of  poverty  and  sorrow.  The  widow  and  the  orphan 
have  reason  to  rise  up  and  call  him  blessed.  The  drunkard 
and  the  prisoner  have  abundant  cause  to  remember  him 
gratefully,  for  his  labor  of  love.  Although  advanced  in  years, 
he  has  the  vigor,  forecast,  and  decision  of  the  prime  of  life. 
Between  the  hours  of  eight  and  one,  in  the  morning,  he 
may  be  found  every  working-day  in  his  office,  serving  the 
poor.  Groups  of  men,  women,  and  children,  of  every  com 
plexion,  from  every  country,  may  be  seen  at  his  office  every 
forenoon,  soliciting  aid  and  advice.'  The  dusky  African,  the 
mercurial  Celt,  the  solid  Englishman,  the  chattering  French 
man,  the  lymphatic  German,  and  the  exiled  Hungarian.  One 
sits  on  a  bench  at  the  window,  eating  a  bowl  of  soup — another 
stoops  down  to  fit  a  pair  of  shoes  to  his  feet — another  strips 
the  rags  from  his  back  and  puts  on  a  warm  jacket.  Look  at 
the  procession  passing  through  the  gate.  Here  is  a  boy  with 
a  bag  of  rice,  there  is  a  girl  with  a  loaf  of  bread,  yonder  is  a 
woman  with  a  basket  of  provisions.  See  that  red-faced  young 
man, — his  home  is  in  the  country,  but  he  last  night  fell  among 


246  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

thieves,  between  Broad  and  Beacon  streets,  and  he  has  just 
borrowed  a  sum  sufficient  to  take  him  to  his  parents.  That 
modest  woman,  so  plainly  yet  so  neatly  dressed,  suffered 
uncomplainingly,  until  pinching  hunger  compelled  her  to  soli 
cit  charity — her  immediate  wants  are  supplied,  and  employ 
ment  will  be  procured  for  her.  The  man  with  a  slouched 
hat  and  seedy  coat  has  signed  the  pledge,  and  left  hi^  brandy 
bottle  among  the  curiosities  in  the  Deacon's  temperance 
museum.  There  comes  the  porter  with  a  stack  of  letters  and 
papers  from  the  post-office — the  former  will  be  answered  and 
the  latter  examined,  before  the  rising  of  to-morrow's  sun. 

It  is  now  noon.  The  sad  faced,  broken-hearted,  and  down 
trodden  procession,  has  passed  away  from  the  beautiful  resi 
dence,  and  the  owner  and  occupant  of  the  mansion  hurries 
down  to  his  place  of  business,  from  that  to  the  bank,  and  then 
home  again,  in  time  to  dine.  After  dinner  he  calls  for  his 
carriage,  and  takes  a  poor  boy  to  the  Farm  School — dropping 
in  at  South  Boston  to  see  the  juvenile  offenders,  and  calling, 
on  his  return,  to  see  a  sick  woman,  and  administer  such  con 
solation  and  assistance  as  he  can  render.  Her  lips  are  white 
as  the  wild  white  rose,  but  she  calls  for  blessings  to  descend 
upon  kind  friends,  whose  visits  are  better  than  medicine  to 
her  aching  frame  and  breaking  heart. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  is  never  idle.  Now  presiding  at 
a  Mass  Meeting  on  the  Common,  or  in  Faneuil  Hall,  or  in 
Tremont  Temple — then  making  a  speech  to  the  convicts  in 
Charlestown  Prison,  or  visiting  the  paupers  at  Deer  Island— 
or  attending  to  his  official  business  at  the  Board  of  Aldermen 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  247 

—or  his  duties  as  an  office  bearer  in  the  Brattle  street  Church, 
where  his  father  served  before  him,  in  the  same  capacity  of 
Deacon. 

His  father  was  one  of  the  brave  men  who  threw  the  tea 
overboard  in  Boston  harbor.  Mr.  Grant  is  the  senior  partner 
in  a  large  paper  establishment,  Overseer  of  the  Poor,  Almoner 
for  the  benevolent  who  choose  to  contribute  of  their  abundance 
for  the  relief  of  idtie  distressed ;  President  of  the  Boston  Tem 
perance  Society,  and  a  director  in  many  other  institutions. 
He  is  a  man  of  fortune,  has  a  good  education,  and  has  visited 
Europe.  He  writes  a  sensible  letter,  and  makes  a  practical 
speech ;  is  peculiarly  happy  in  his  remarks  to  children,  and 
always  a  welcome  visitor  at  all  juvenile  demonstrations.  For 
many  years  he  has  been  identified  with  the  temperance  cause. 
His  house,  and  purse,  and  heart,  are  ever  open  for  the  advance 
ment  of  his  favorite  enterprise.  He  is  the  unfaltering  friend 
and  patron  of  that  eminent  orator,  J.  B.  Gough,  and  stood  by 
his  side  in  the  hour  of  trial,  when  summer  friends  forsook 
him. 

It  is  rather  difficult  to  describe  his  person.  The  portrait 
in  the  American  Temperance  Magazine  is  a  pretty  fair  resem 
blance,  although  not  a  perfect  likeness.  He  has  brown  hair 
— sprinkled  with  lines  of  silver — blue  eyes,  thin  face,  cheeks 
somewhat  sunken,  is  rather  under  the  medium  size.  He  is 
of  the  nervous-sanguine  temperament;  has  a  singular  habit 
of  twitching  the  muscles  of  his  face  and  shrugging  his  shoul 
ders  when  excited ;  often  speaks  abruptly,  when  pressed  with 
business,  and  does  not  always  appear  to  the  best  advantage 


248  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

at  first  sight,  but  wears  well  and  "improves  on  acquaintance." 
In  a  word,  he  is  a  man  of  sound  judgment,  superior  business 
talents,  a  practical  philanthropist,  and  a  sincere  Christian. 
For  many  years  he  has  been  a  hero  in  the  battle-field  of  life, 
and  many  would  be  willing  to  give  a  dukedom  to  possess  the 
screen  laurels  and  golden  honors  he  has  won. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  240 


GEORGE   N.    BRIGGS. 

Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 

We  may  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 

Foot-prints  on  the  sands  of  time. 

LONGFELLOW. 

His  Excellency,  GEORGE  N.  BRIGGS,  is  an  American 
nobleman  in  the  full-orbed  manhood  of  life.  He  is  robust, 
of  broad  build,  and  medium  height.  His  eyes  are  blue,  and 
his  brown  hair  is  tinged  with  the  frost  of  more  than  fifty 
winters.  His  forehead  is  wide  and  high,  and  indicates  more 
than  a  mediocrity  of  intellect,  and  his  countenance  is  of  a 
serious  and  thoughtful  cast.  He  dresses  plainly,  and  never 
wears  a  collar  above  his  cravat.  We  attribute  this  freak  of 
taste  to  his  innate  love  of  liberty.  He  certainly  is  unlike  the 
drunkard  who  was  such  an  ultra  republican  he  would  not 
wear  a  crown  in  his  hat.  He  belongs  to  the  Baptist  church, 
and  is  one  of  its  most  efficient  and  influential  members.  He 
takes  a  deep  and  lively  interest  in  the  religious  and  reforma 
tory  movements  of  the  age.  In  the  temperance  ranks-*  he  has 
fought  many  battles  and  gained  many  victories.  When  for 
gotten  as  Governor  of  the  glorious  old  Commonwealth  of 
Massachusetts,  he  will  be  gratefully  remembered  as  having 
been  a  successful  champion  of  the  temperance  enterprise. 

Gov.  Briggs  recently  manifested  a  disposition  to  secure 
11* 


250  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

further  legislation  on  the  subject  of  temperance,  and  he  did 
not  handle  that  question  as  good  old  Izaak  Walton  did  the 
frog  he  used  for  a  bait,  touching  it  tenderly,  as  though  he 
would  put  the  hook  into  its  mouth  without  hurting* it.  In 
this  way  he  displeased  the  publicans  and  sinners  more  than 
he  did  the  friends  of  the  total  abstinence  cause.  He  is  always 
right  on  this  question,  and  deserves  great  credit  for  his  devo 
tion  to  the  principles  of  the^  pledge,  and  his  courageous 
advocacy  of  its  doctrines.  It  is  difficult  for  a  politician  to  be 
a  philanthropist,  but  he  is  more  of  the  latter  than  the  former, 
He  is  not  a  bogus  republican,  friendly  on  election  days  and 
forgetful  at  other  times.  He  is  not  a  hypocrite,  who  spreads 
palm  leaves  in  the  path  of  Jesus  when  he  is  popular  in 
Jerusalem,  and  denies  him  after  he  is  nailed  to  the  cross.  He 
believes  men  live  in  the  deeds  they  do,  and  not  in  the  noise 
they  make ;  in  the  thoughts  they  have,  and  not  in  the  breaths 
they  draw ;  in  the  beatings  of  a  good  heart,  and  not  in  the 
throbbings  of  a  gold  repeater. 

When  the  Hon.  Edward  Everett  delivered  the  eulogy  on 
the  death  of  the  lamented  Adams,  every  little  great  man  in 
the  city,  who  had  an  opportunity  to  make  a  display,  was  bedi 
zened  with  the  tinselry,  jewelry,  and  regalia  of  office  ;  but  the 
Governor,  who  is  a  wise  man  and  a  good  man,  wore  a  plain 
citizen's  dress,  marked  with  a  simple  badge  of  mourning. 
He  knows  that  birth,  genius,  talent,  learning,  wealth,  and  per 
sonal  attractions  do  not  alone  make  one  man  better  than 
another.  A  man  may  carry  a  silver- headed  cane  and  wear  a 
wooden  head.  He  may  learn  the  time  he  squanders  from  a 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  251 

gold  watch,  while  his  heart  is  as  corrupt  as  a  nest  of  unclean 
birds.  He  may  have  a  soft  hand  at  one  end  of  his  arm  and 
a  softer  head  at  the  other.  A  fool  with  a  fortune  is  pretty 
sure  to  clothe  his  back  more  than  he  cultivates  his  brains. 

Governor  Briggs  was  apprenticed  to  the  hatting  business 
at  an  early  period  of  his  life,  and  although  he  afterwards 
became  a  lawyer,  he  never  treated  working  men  with  disre 
spect.  He  loves  to  grasp  the  hand  hardened  by  toil,  and 
whether  a  man's  face  be  bronzed  at  the  plough  or  bleached  in 
the  mill,  whether  he  be  clad  in  ruffles  or  in  rags,  he  is  sure  to 
meet  with  a  warm  and  welcome  and  unostentatious  reception 
when  introduced  to  George  N.  Briggs.  He  is  not  so  eminent 
a  lawyer  as  he  is  a  Governor,  although  he  is  considered  an 
Aristides  in  his  profession.  He  is  an  attractive  speaker,  and 
is  always  ready  on  all  suitable  occasions  to  give  free  utterance 
to  his  manly  sentiments.  He  is  more  fluent  than  eloquent, 
more  solid  than  brilliant,  more  inclined  to  elaborate  arguments 
and  relate  facts  than  to  round  periods  and  polish  sentences. 
"When  his  voice  is  not  hoarse,  and  his  mind  is  roused,  he  will 
occasionally  thrill  the  heart  like  a  blast  from  a  trumpet. 

During  his  stay  in  Congress  he  organized  a  Congressional 
Temperance  Society,  which  did  a  vast  amount  of  good,  but, 
unfortunately,  it  died  out  soon  after  he  returned  to  Massa 
chusetts.  In  the  Sabbath  School  this  distinguished  man  is 
"  at  home."  Let  the  nobles  of  the  land  copy  his  example  in 
thi^  respect,  and  make  themselves  useful  in  their  day  and 
generation. 

Governor  Briggs  has,  among  his  political  opponents,  many 


252  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

personal  friends.  He  doubtless  has  imperfections,  but  fe~w 
public  men  have  less.  It  is  said  that  he  has  exercised  too 
much  clemency  towards  convicts  whom  he  has  pardoned ;  if 
this  be  a  fault,  it  leans  towards  the  side  of  virtue.  Some  think 
his  course  respecting  the  Mexican  war  reprehensible,  but  this 
is  not  the  time  nor  the  place  to  investigate  that  matter. 
Some  complain  that  he  has  not  sufficiently  imbibed  the  spirit 
of  anti-slavery,  but  as  we  are  not  all  organized,  nor  educated, 
nor  situated  alike,  we  must  make  some  allowance  for  differ 
ences  of  opinion.  Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  some,  he 
will  long  be*remembered  as  a  consistent  Christian,  and  the 
model  Governor  of  the  Old  Bav  State. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


THEODORE  PARKER. 

M  This,  like  a  public  inn,  provides  a  treat, 
Where  each  promiscuous  guest  sits  down  to  eat ; 
And  such  this  mental  food  as  we  may  call 
Something  to  all  men,  and  to  some  men  all." 

CRABBE. 

LET  the  reader  imagine  it  is  Sunday  morning.  The  bella 
are  tolling,  and  the  good  church-going  people  of  Boston  are 
wending  their  way  to  the  various  places  of  worship  which 
are  open  for  religious  services.  Suppose  we  spend  an  hour 
this  forenoon  at  the  Melodeon,  and  hear  the  celebrated 
philanthropist  who  usually  preaches  there* 

Mr.  Parker  is  seated  in  an  arm-chair  on  the  platform. 
A  Bible  and  a  bunch  of  flowers  are  on  the  desk  in  front  of 
him,  and  it  is  difficult  to  say  beforehand  from  which  of  the 
two  he  will  select  his  text.  He  will  doubtless  glorify  the 
fragrant  and  beautiful  blossoms,  and  condemn  some  parts  of 
the  inspired  volume,  before  he  concludes  his  address.  See 
him  rise  slowly  and  walk  gently  toward  the  desk.  He  now 
leans  upon  it,  closes  his  eyes,  clasps  his  hands,  and  commen 
ces  prayer,  in  an  inaudible  voice.  Now  the  hoarse  whisper 
becomes  a  low,  murmuring  sound.  Now  you  hear  words, 
and  a  whole  sentence  occasionally,  and  wish  you  had  coma 
earlier  so  as  to  have  obtained  a  seat  nearer  the  preacher 


254  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 


,  by  opening  your  ears  and'watching  his  lips  attentively, 
you  can  hear  his  prayer  ;  but  if  God  is  not  present,  there  is 
no  one  there  who  understands  it.  It  abounds  with  smart 
maxims,  deep  philosophical  reflections,  pious  acknowledg 
ments,  earnest  invocations,  and  reverential  promises. 

He  has  taken  his  text  and  commenced  reading  his  manu 
script.  His  voice  is  rather  husky,  and  his  thick  lips  seem 
unwilling  to  part.  He  now  speaks  louder  and  more  dis 
tinctly  ;  his  lead-like  eyes  begin  to  glow  with  genius,  and  his 
bald  head  seems  to  shine  transparently  with  thought,  while 
he  utters,  in  choice  and  classical  English,  sentiments  so  new, 
so  strange,  so  mighty,  and  so  mad  with  radicalism,  incorrigi 
ble  conservatives  are  offended.  He  is  a  moral  Columbus, 
who  discovers  whole  continents  of  thought,  and  is  sure  to 
cause  mutiny  in  the  ship  he  sails  in,  because  he  ventures  so 
far  from  the  dry  land  on  which  most  men  build  their  hopes. 
Indeed,  he  is  regarded  as  a  theological  corsair,  and  most  of 
our  great  guns  have  been  levelled  at  him,  but  he  sails  on 
uninjured,  amid  the  roar  of  their  opposition,  although  he 
frequently  endangers  his  own  immortal  life  by  mistaking  a 
whale's  back  for  a  green  island.  His  philosophy  and  his 
divinity  do  not  agree,  for  his  philosophy  is  more  divine  than 
his  divinity.  He  has  but  little  faith  in  any  part  of  Scripture 
that  is  not  apparently  susceptible  of  interpretations  favora 
ble  to  his  peculiar  views  of  religious  duty,  and  does  not 
hesitate  to  ridicule  those  passages  which  come  in  collision 
with  his  "utopian"  doctrines.  In  this  way  he  unintention 
ally  destroys,  in  the  minds  of  many,  all  reverence  for 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  255 

religion,  and  obliterates  the  sense  of  moral  obligation.  If 
his  hearers  were  all  learned  philosophers,  his  lectures  would 
be  invaluable  to  them  ;  but  they  consist  of  all  classes.  The 
wise,  who  sift  the  wheat  from  the  chaff,  may  live  under  his 
teaching,  but  the  mass,  who  swallow  everything  he  offers, 
are  in  danger  of  suffering  all  the  pangs  of  spiritual  starvar 
tion. 

He  is  a  true  and  thorough  reformer,  and  advocates  with 
great  zeal  and  greater  ability  the  peace  reform,  the  temper 
ance  reform,  the  anti-slavery  and  anti-hanging  reforms.  In 
the  course  of  his  sermon  he  is  sure  to  apply  the  rod  to 
"  Uncle  Sam's  prize-fighters,"  the  Army  and  the  Navy. 
The  old  autocrat  Alcohol  will  be  flagellated — the  South  will 
receive  a  blow  here — the  church  will  get  a  whack  there — 
and  the  gallows  will  be  kicked  over  yonder.  He  reminds 
Dne  of  the  schoolmasters  of  ancient  times,  but  he  serves 
great  men  as  they  did  little  boys.  Statesmen,  clergymen, 
aristocrats,  are  called  up  and  publicly  chastised,  if  they  do 
not  say  their  lessons  correctly.  A  few  days  ago,  Daniel 
Webster  had  to  hold  out  his  hand  and  feel  the  ferrule — Gen. 
Jass  is  frequently  compelled  to  stand  on  the  dunce-block  at 
the  Melodeon — Foote  has  to  wear  the  cap  and  bells  every 
time  he  threatens  to  hang  or  shoot  his  fellow  Senators — he 
pats  Benton  on  the  shoulders  by  way  of  encouragement, 
when  he  speaks  for  freedom — John  P.  Hale  he  thinks  is  a 
precocious  child  of  great  promise — Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 
is  so  far  advanced  in  knowledge,  he  would  employ  him  as 
Usher  in  his  school. 


256  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

Mr.  Parker's  matter  is  more  fascinating  than  his  manner 
Indeed,  he  is  often  awkward  in  his  gestures  and  indistinct  in 
his  utterance,  but  he  has  the  happy  faculty  of  compressing  a 
volume  of  meaning  in  a  few  simple  words.  He  never  appears 
before  an  audience  without  giving  his  hearers  at  least  one 
drop  of  fragrance  which  contains  the  concentrated  essence  of 
a  whole  garden  of  roses. 

He  is  the  poor  man's  friend,  although  he  regards  poverty 
as  an  unmitigated  curse — and  would  never  be  like  the  hypo 
crites  who  pass  by  on  the  other  side  when  humanity  ia 
prostrate,  bleeding,  and  beseeching  help.  He  has  an  extra 
ordinary  share  of  moral  courage,  and  wages  war  like  a  hero, 
against  the  kingdom  of  scoundreldom.  He  is  fond  of  the 
company  of  the  gods,  and  talks  about  Mars,  Jupiter,  Neptune, 
as  though  they  had  been  his  school-mates;  is  a  modern 
among  the  ancients,  an  ancient  amongst  the  moderns ;  will 
tell  you  with  perfect  coolness,  that  Paul  was  not  so  good  a 
writer  as  Socrates  ;  that  Jesus  was  a  perfect  man,  that  by-and- 
by  there  will  be  other  men  as  perfect  as  Jesus  ;  and  that  the 
statutes  of  Moses  are  not  equal  to  those  of  Massachusetts. 
He  seems  to  spurn  what  he  cannot  fathom,  and  condemn 
what  he  cannot  comprehend.  He  doubts  whether  Christ 
could  perform  miracles,  because  he  cannot  perfoVm  miracles 
himself;  thinks  inspiration  is  reason  magnetized;  the  Bible  an 
interesting,  but  not  always  reliable  history  of  the  Jews,  the 
popular  religion  of  the  times  a  delusive  sham;  loves  to 
trace  human  progress  from  the  barbarous  ages  to  the  present 
time,  and  then  look  forward  to  a  golden  future.  Were  he  to 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  257 

manifest  more  reverence  for  the  truths  of  revelation,  and  sho\v 
that  he  placed  as  much  faith  in  God  as  he  does  in  man,  he 
would,  with  his  varied  learning  and  great  talents,  accomplish 
an  immeasurable  amount  of  good ;  and  many  young  men  who 
have  more  faith  in  a  newspaper  than  they  have  in  the  New 
Testament,  would  endorse  its  sentiments  and  follow  the  pre 
cepts  of  that  heavenly  guide. 

Mr.  Parker  is  a  chaste  and  elegant  writer,  his  works  are 
widely  circulated  and  read  by  scholars  on  both  continents. 
Although  he  is  denounced  as  an  infidel  by  his  opponents,  he 
certainly  behaves  like  a  Christian  in  his  private  intercourse 
with  his  fellow  men.  He  thinks  there  is  nothing  in  the 
world  so  sacred  as  man,  which  accounts  for  the  fact  that  he 
hates  flogging  in  the  Navy,  and  is  opposed  to  hanging,  and 
oppression,  and  intemperance,  and  the  butchery  of  the  battle 
field. 

He  is  upwards  of  forty  years  of  age,  rather  under  the 
medium  stature,  head  large  and  bald,  and  his  face  dull,  until 
he  becomes  animated  before  an  audience  ;  is  quite  popular  as 
a  lyceum  lecturer,  and  is  in  great  demand  during  the 
lecturing  season. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch,  though  wrong  in  theory,  is 
right  in  practice,  and  has  courage  enough  to  seize  the  social 
and  public  evils  by  the  throat.  We,  as  a  community,  are 
deeply  indebted  to  him  for  his  efforts  to  improve  the  condi 
tion  of  the  unfortunate.  He  "  goes  "  for  baths,  ventilators, 
hard  beds,  coarse  food,  cold  water,  and  cheerfulness,  and 
*  goes "  against  tobacco,  hot  slops,  quack  medicines,  thin 


258  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

shoes,  and  tight  lacing ;  hates  bigotry,  gluttony,  drunkenness, 
poverty,  war,  and  slavery,  and  loves  purity,  fidelity,  liberty, 
equality,  fraternity.  He  is  one  of  the  most  learned  and 
gifted  men  in  America,  and  is  a  better  Christian  than  some  of 
his  bigoted  detractors,  who  say  he  is  like  Noah's  carpenters, 
who  built  a  ship  for  other  folks  to  sail  in,  and  yet  were 
drowned  themselves. 

The  following  passage  in  eulogy  of  Amos  Lawrence,  who 
died  in  this  city  on  the  31st  ult,  is  frotn  a  sermon  by  Kev. 
Theodore  Parker,  preached  on  the  next  Sabbath.  We  copy 
from  the  "  Commonwealth :" — 

-% 

"  Only  two  days  ago,  there  died  in  this  city,  a  man  rich  in 
money,  but  far  more  rich  in  manhood.  I  suppose  he  had  his 
faults,  his  deformities  of  character.  Of  course  he  had.  It 
takes  many  to  make  up  a  complete  man.  Humanity  is  so 
wide  and  deep  that  all  the  world  cannot  drink  it  dry.  He 
came  here  poor ;  from  a  country  town.  He  came  with 
nothing — nothing  but  himself,  I  mean ,  and  a  man  is  not 
appraised,  only  taxed.  He  came  obscure ;  nobody  knew 
AMOS  LAWRENCE  forty-five  years  ago,  nor  cared  whether  the 
handkerchief  in  which  he  carried  his  wardrobe,  trudging  to 
town,  was  large  or  little.  He  acquired  a  large  estate :  got  it 
by  honest  industry,  forecast,  prudence,  thrift.  He  earned 
what  he  got,  and  a  great  deal  more.  He  was  proud  of  his  life ; 
honorably  proud  that  he  made  his  own  fortune,  and  started 
with  nothing  but  his  hands.'  Sometimes  he  took  gentle- 
iner  o  Groton,  and  showed  them  half-a-mile  of  stone-wall 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  25 G 

which  the  boy  Amos  had  laid  on  the  paternal  homestead 
This  was  something  for  a  rich  merchant  to  be  prcud  of. 

"  He  knew  what  few  men  understand^ — when  to  stop 
accumulating.  At  the  age  when  the  summer  of  passion  has 
grown  cool,  and  the  winter  of  ambition  begins  seriously  to  set 
in ;  when  avarice  and  love  of  power,  of  distinction  and  of 
office,  begin  to  take  hold  of  men ;  when  the  leaves  of  distinc 
tive  generosity  fall  off,  and  the  selfish  bark  begins  to  tighten 
about  the  man — some  twenty  years  ago,  when  he  had 
acquired  a  large  estate,  he  said  to  himself — '  Enough  !  No 
more  accumulation  of  that  sort  to  make  me  a  miser,  and  my 
children  worse  than  misers.'  So  he  sought  to  use  nobly  what 
he  had  manfully  won.  He  didn't  keep 

'  A  brave  old  house,  at  a  bountiful  rate, 
With  half-a-score  of  servants  to  wait  at  the  gate.' 

He  lived  comfortably,  but  discreetly. 

"  His  charity  was  greater  than  his  estate.  In  the  last 
twenty  or  thirty  years,  he  has  given  away  to  the  poor  a 
larger  fortune  than  he  has  left  to  his  family.  But  he  gave 
with  as  much  wisdom  as  generosity.  His  money  lengthened 
his  arm,  because  he  had  a  good  heart  in  his  bosom.  He 
looked  up  his  old  customers  whom  he  had  known  in  his 
poorer  days — which  were  their  rich  ones — and  helped  them  in 
their  need.  He  sought  the  poor  of  this  city,  and  its  neigh 
borhood,  and  gave  them  his  gold,  his  attention,  and  the 
sympathy  of  his  heart.  He  prayed  for  the  poor,  but  prayed 
gold.  He  built  Churches — not  for  his  own  sect  alone,  for  he 


260  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

had  piety  without  narrowness,  and  took  religion  in  a  natural 
way  ;  churches  for  Methodists,  Baptists,  Unitarians,  for  poor, 
oppressed  black  men,  fugitive  slaves  in  Canada,  nay,  more, 
he  helped  them  in  their  flight.  He  helped  colleges — gave 
them  libraries,  and  philosophical  apparatus.  He  sought  out 
young  men  of  talents  and  character,  but  poor,  and  struggling 
for  education,  and  made  a  long  arm  to  reach  down  to  their 
need,  sending  parcels  of  books,  pieces  of  cloth  to  make  a 
scholar's  jacket  or  cloak,  or  money  to  pay  his  term  bills.  He 
lent  money,  when  the  loan  was  better  than  the  gift.  That 
bountiful  hand  was  felt  on  the  shore  of  the  Pacific.  He  was 
his  own  executor,  and  the  trustee  of  his  own  charity  funds. 
He  didn't  leave  it  for  his  heirs  to  distribute  his  benevolence  at 
their  cost.  At  his  own  cost,  he  administered  the  benefactions 
of  his  testament.  At  the  end  of  a  fortunate  year,  he  once 
found  thirty  thousand  dollars  more  than  he  looked  for,  as  his 
share  of  the  annual  profits.  In  a  month  he  had  invested  it 
all — in  various  charities.  He  couldn't  eat  his  morsel  alone — 
the  good  man ! 

"  His  benevolence  came  out  also  in  smaller  things,  in  his 
daily  life.  He  let  the  boys  cling  on  behind  his  carriage — 
grown  men  did  so,  but  invisibly ;  he  gave  sleigh-rides  to  boys 
and  girls,  and  had  a  gentle  word  and  kindly  smile  for  all  he  met. 

"  He  coveted  no  distinction.  He  had  no  title,  and  wasn't 
a 'General,'  a  'Colonel,'  a  'Captain,'  or  'Honorable' — only 
plain  '  Mister,'  '  Esquire,'  and  '  Deacon,'  at  the  end. 

"  His  charity  was  as  unostentatious  as  the  dew  in  summer. 
Blessing  the  giver  by  the  motive,  the  receiver  by  the  quicker 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  261 

life  and  greener  growth,  it  made  no  noise  in  falling  to  the 
ground.  ^  In  Boston,  which  suspiciously  scrutinizes  righteous 
ness  with  the  same  eye  that  blinks  at  the  most  hideoua 
profligacy,  though  as  public  as  the  street — even  the  daily 
press  never  accused  his  charity  of  loving  to  be  looked  at. 

"  Of  good  judgment,  good  common-sense,  careful,  exact 
methodical,  diligent,  he  was  not  a  man  of  great  intellect.  lie 
had  no  uncommon  culture  of  the  understanding  or  the  imagi 
nation,  and  of  the  higher  reason  still  less.  But  in  respect  of 
the  greater  faculties — in  respect  of  conscience,  affection,  the 
religious  element,  he  was  well-born,  well-bred,  and  eminently 
well  disciplined  by  himself. 

"  He  was  truly  a  religious  man.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  he 
thought  as  Calvin  or  Luther  thought,  or  believed  by  Peter, 
James,  or  John.  Perhaps  he  believed  some  things  which  the 
apostles  never  thought  of,  and  rejected  others  which  they  all 
held  in  reverence.  When  I  say  that  he  was  a  religious  man, 
I  mean  he  loved  God,  and  loved  men.  He  had  no  more 
doubt  that  God  would  receive  him  to  Heaven,  than  that  he 
himself  would  make  all  men  happy  if  he  could.  Reverencing 
God,  he  reverenced  the  laws  of  God — I  mean  the  natural  laws 
of  morality — the  laws  of  justice  and  of  love.  His  religion 
was  not  ascetic,  but  good-natured  and  of  a  cheerful  counte 
nance.  His  piety  became  morality.  The  first  rule  that  he 
took  to  his  counting-house  was  the  Golden  Rule ;  he  never 
laid  it  by,  buying  and  selling  and  giving  by  that  standard 
measure.  So  he  travelled  along,  on  that  path  which  widens 
and  brightens  as  it  leads  to  heaven. 


2C2  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

"  Here  was  a  man  who  knew  the  odds  between  the  Means 
of  Living  and  the  Ends  of  Life.  He  knew  the  true  use  of 
riches.  They  served  as  a  material  basis  for  great  manly 
excellence.  His  ton  pf  gold  was  a  power  to  feed,  to  clothe,  to 
house,  and  warm,  and  comfort  needy  men  ;  a  power  to  educate 
the  mind,  to  cheer  the  affections,  to  bless  the  soul.  To  many 
a  poor  boy,  to  many  a  sad  mother,  he  gave  a  '  merry  Christ 
mas '  on  the  earth,  and  now  in  due  time,  God  has  taken  him 
io  celebrate  Epiphany  and  New  Year's  day  in  Heaven  !" 


iVf  JCButte 


OFF-HANO    TAKIXOS. 


NEAL  DOW. 

THE  man  who  had  the  talent  to  frame  and  the  courage  to 
execute  the  Maine  Law,  deserves  to  be  honored  and  remem 
bered  by  every  patriot  and  philanthropist  in  our  broad  free 
land.  N"eal  Dow  is  the  Kossuth  of  the  temperance  revolu 
tion,  and  his  name  is  already  registered  in  the  book  of  fame, 
"  among  the  few,  tne  immortal  names  not  born  to  die." 
Poets  sing  his  praise,  painters  put  his  shadow  on  their  can 
vass — historians  record  his  deeds,  and  multitudes  of  appreci 
ating  mothers  will  call  their  children  by  his  name. 

We  wrote  pledges,  made  speeches,  obtained  signatures, 
foimed  societies,  and  framed  laws,  to  suppress  intemperance  ; 
we  tried  moral,  magnetic,  Bible,  and  ballot-box  suasion  ;  wo 
plead,  and  prayed,  and  promised,  and  did  incalculable  good, 
but  failed  to  accomplish  the  entire  extinction  of  the  rum  traf 
fic,  the  consummation  so  devoutly  desired.  We  were  brought 
to  a  moral  Panama,  with  a  gulf  of  billows  rolling  between  us 
and  a  golden  California  beyond,  without  bridge  or  boat  to 
carry  us  safely  over  to  the  land  of  promise,  when  Neal  Dow, 
who  understood  every  rope  in  the  ship,  took  the  helm,  and 
piloted  our  storm-beaten  vessel  into  the  harbor  of  safety. 

Yes,  a  private  citizen  of  Maine,  possessing  the  stern  will 
arid  Puritan  zeal  "  of  the  earlier  and  better  day,"  arose  in  the 


264  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

dignity  of  conscious  strength,  and  with  the  sweep  of  his 
strong  arm  wiped  away  the  stain  of  black  intemperance  from 
the  State.  Without  the  aid  of  the  Army  or  the  Navy,  he 
routed  the  most  formidable  and  dangerous  enemy  that  could 
assail  the  Commonwealth. 

Lean  and  pallid  avarice,  haggard  appetite,  stupid  igno 
rance,  bloated  bigotry,  devilish  demagogueism,  stood  in  his 
way,  clad  to  the  teeth  in  armor,  but  he  feared  them  no  more 
than  Bunyan's  Christian  feared  the  beasts  he  met  on  his 
way  to  the  Celestial  city.  He  extinguished  the  fires  of  the 
only  distillery  in  the  State,  and  wrote  tekel  on  the  walls  of 
every  wine  palace  in  Maine.  Who  is  this  modern  Moses 
who  smote  the  RED  SEA  with  the  rod  of  the  law,  so  that  the 
people  can  travel  dry-shod  ?  He  is  a  man  who  has  a  head  to 
think,  a  heart  to  feel,  a  tongue  to  explain,  and  a  hand  to 
execute ;  is  respectably  educated,  not  learned,  comfortably 
independent,  not  a  millionaire ;  speaks  conversationally,  not 
eloquently ;  is  a  plain,  practical  man,  with  a  strong  mind  and 
an  iron  will.  Had  he  lived  in  the  days  of  Cromwell,  he 
would  have  been  a  leader  in  the  battered  band  that  fought 
side  by  side  with  the  "  Usurper."  He  speaks  as  one  having 
authority,  and  looks  like  one  born  to  command.  He  is  in 
the  meridian  of  life — about  five  feet  seven  inches  in  height, 
and  well  proportioned ;  has  dark  hair,  a  square  forehead, 
which  does  not  at  first  glance  indicate  more  than  a  medi 
ocrity  of  mind ;  eye-brows  rather  ponderous,  cheek-bones 
somewhat  prominent,  complexion  dark.  The  peculiar  form 
of  his  mouth  and  chin  pronounces  him  a  man  of  obstinate 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  265 

firmness.  There  is  a  sort  of  come  on,  I  am  ready  for  you, 
look  ab9iit  his  face,  which,  affords  unmistakable  evidence 
that  he  will  not  countenance  the  liquor  trade.  He  looks  as 
though  he  could  chase  a  thousand  rum-sellers,  and  with  the 
aid  of  the  Maine  Law,  put  ten  thousand  to  flight. 

Neal  t  Dow  is  the  son  of  a  Quaker,  and  surely  he  fights 
valiantly  for  one  who  has  been  trained  to  observe  the  prin 
ciples  of  peace.  He  does  not  claim  religious  relationship 
with  any  sect,  but  is  a  firm  believer  in  the  truths  of  Divine 
Revelation,  and  observes  devotional  duties  in  his  family. 
For  many  years  he  has  been  identified  with  the  temperance 
movement  in  Maine  (his  native  State),  where  he  has  labored 
and  lectured  gratuitously,  for  the  welfare  of  his  fellow  citizens. 
Frequently  has  he  appeared  before  the  Legislature  with 
petitions  praying  for  laws  so  stringent  as  to  prohibit  the 
liquor  trade,  and  finally  he  succeeded  in  cutting  out  some 
work  for  his  country. 

He  is  a  tanner  by  trade,  and  although  he  has  (I  may  be 
misinformed)  retired  from  business,  he  has  left  the  hides  of 
many  rum-sellers  on  the  fence.  Wonder  if  they  would  not 
make  good  shoes,  since  they  are  water-proof  ?  There  is  not 
a  lawyer  in  the  land  who  could  have  drafted  a  better  bill  than 
that  which  has  so  effectually  excommunicated  intemperance 
from  the  glorious  State  which  is  the  nearest  to  the  golden 
gates  of  sunrise.  The  law  declares  that  intoxicating  drinks 
shall  not  be  made  and  sold,  to  be  used  as  a  beverage,  in  Maine 
— that  an  agent  shall  be  appointed  in  each  city  or  town  tc 
sell  spirits  for  mechanical  and  medicinal  purposes  only — that 

12 


266  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

common  sellers  shall  be  heavily  fined  and  imprisoned  for  per 
sisting  in  violating  the  law — that  no  lawless  ruirtH'.eller  shall 
be  allowed  to  sit  as  a  juror  on  a  rum  suit — that,  liquors  may 
be  searched  for,  seized,  and  destroyed — that  in  o«*o  of  appeal, 
bonds  must  be  given  that  the  case  will  be  pro^^cuted,  and  if 
the  judgment  goes  against  the  defendant,  lie  must  pay 
double  the  fine  and  suffer  double  the  imprisonment  &c.,  &c, 
Read  the  law,  it  is  a  good  one.  It  has  not  bv/en  pared  down 
by  abridgment,  nor  patched  up  with  amendments.  It  is  the 
people's  law,  and  not  the  law  of  politicians.  It  is  a  terror  to 
those  who  do  ill,  and  a  praise  to  those  who  do  well.  It  is  a 
fire  annihilator,  and  works  well  out  doors  or  in,  and  the  effect 
is  the  same  whether  the  building  be  a  small  one  or  a  largo 
one.  Success  to  the  MAIN  LAW,  which  is  the  Law  of  Maine. 
With  the  following  impromptu  we  conclude  this  sketch  •— • 

Thy  holy  laws  are  stereotyped  to  deeds, 
Thy  honored  name  is  now  our  nation's  pride  ! 
Upon  our  cottage  walls  thy  portrait  shines  ! 
We  call  our  children  by  thy  magic  name  ! 
Our  poets  laud  thee  in  immortal  verse ! 
Thy  monuments  in  Maine  are  empty  jails, 
Thy  laurels,  laws  observed  and  unrepealed, 
Thy  medals,  grateful  hearts  of  men  redeemed, 
Thy  friends,  the  noblest  of  the  human  race. 
E'en  Legislatures  stop  to  learn  thy  laws, 
And  nations  shout  thy  name  across  the  deep! 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  2(57 


PHILIP  S.  WHITE. 

EVERYBODY  said,  "  Let  us  go  to  the  great  meeting  at  Tre- 
mont  Temple,  this  evening,  and  hear  Philip  S.  White,  the 
distinguished  champion  of  the  temperance  reform."  At  the 
appointed  hour,  that  magnificent  forum  was  filled  with  the 
wealth,  beauty,  talent,  and  moral  worth  of  Boston.  The 
immense  building  was  brilliantly  illuminated,  as  though  the 
sun  had  risen  behind  the  orchestra,  and  concentrated  its  rays 
within  the  walls  of  the  Temple.  On  the  platform  were  some 
of  the  elite  and  literati  of  society, — authors,  orators,  and  phi 
lanthropists.  After  the  usual  preliminaries,  at  the  commence 
ment  of  the  exercises,  skilful  fingers  touched  the  magic  keys 
of  the  mammoth  organ,  and  we  were  pleasantly  entertained 
with  sweet  strains  of  delightful  melody.  Sometimes  it  seemed 
as  if  a  choir  of  soft-voiced  maidens  was  enclosed  behind  those 
golden  columns,  singing  such  rich,  lute-like  airs,  that  angels, 
on  their  mission  of  mercy,  might  have  mistaken  that  place  for 
the  gate  of  heaven.  Then  the  heavy  bass  would  roll  like  a 
wave  of  thunder  through  the  large  hall,  startling  the  charmed 
hearers  to  a  sense  of  the  fact  that  they  were  still  under  the 
clouds. 

As  the  music  subsided,  a  tall,  portly  man,  on  the  mellow 
side  of  fifty,  arose  to  address  the  audience.     "Is  that  the  man 


26S  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

who  stood  at  the  head  of  the  Order  of  the  Sons  of  Ternpe 
ranoe  ?"  was  the  general  inquiry.  u  It  is,"  was  th*  response. 
The  "  observed  of  all  observers,"  on  this  occasion,  is  a  person 
of  good  mould,  somewhat  bald,  but  makes  up  that  deficiency 
by  a  luxurious  growth  of  Avhiskers,  which  become  his  face  as 
feathers  do  an  eagle.  He  has  a  large,  aquiline,  Bardolphian 
nose,  dark  eyes,  and  a  wide  mouth,  indicative  of  eloquence 
and  good  nature.  He  commences  in  a  conversational  pitch 
of  voice ;  face  dull  and  passionless  as  marble ;  has  spoken  ten 
minutes  without  saying  anything,  and  the  sanguine  expecta 
tions  of  the  people  are  sadly  disappointed.  The  hearers  bow 
their  heads  like  bulrushes,  and  some  would  leave  the  meeting 
but  that  they  hope  for  better  things.  He  is  not  quite  so  prosy 
now  as  he  was  fifteen  minutes  ago.  His  voice  is  deeper  and 
clearer,  his  utterance  more  rapid  and  distinct,  and  his  face  shines 
as  though  it  had  been  freshly  oiled.  There  is  a  resurrection 
now  among  the  bowed  heads;  he  has  just  made  a  thrilling 
appeal,  which  moved  the  audience  like  a  shock  from  an  electric 
battery.  Now  he  relates  a  tale  of  pity,  which  is  drawing  tears 
from  eyes  "  unused  to  weep."  Now  he  surprises  his  attentive 
hearers  with  an  unanticipated  stroke  of  humor,  which  makes 
them  laugh  until  they  shake  the  tear-drops  from  their  cheeks. 
All  are  glad  they  came  now,  for  the  orator  is  in  his  happiest 
mood,  his  blood  is  up,  and  his  tongue  as  free  as  the  pen  of  a 
ready  writer.  He  throws  light  on  the  question  by  the  corrusca- 
tions  of  his  attic  wit ;  drives  home  a  truth  by  solid  argument, 
and  clinches  it  by  a  quotation  from  Scripture  ;  convulses  the  au 
ditory  by  using  a  ludicrous  comparison ;  convinces  them  by 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  26? 

presenting  sober-faced  statistics ;  entertains  them  b^r  relating 
an  appropriate  anecdote,  and  fires  their  indignation  against  th<? 
traffic,  while  the  rum-dealers  present  shake  in  their  shoes.  Hrt 
warns  the  drinkers  with  a  voice  which  arouses  them  like  a  clap 
of  thunder  through  a  speaking-trumpet.  In  a  word,  his  spark 
ling  satire,  keen  wit,  eloquent  declamation,  happy  comparisons, 
classical  allusions,  rib-cracking  fun,  and-heart-melting  pathos, 
render  him  one  of  the  most  efficient  public  speakers  in  Ame 
rica. 

Mr.  White  can  labor  a  syllogism,  or  tell  a  story,  with  the 
same  ease  that  Talleyrand  could  turn  a  coffee-mill  or  a  king 
dom.  He  goes  for  moral,  legal,  Bible,  pocket,  and  ballot-box 
suasion.  His  inimitable  histrionic  powers  enable  him  to  tell  a 
story  admirably.  He  has  almost  omnipotent  power  in  swaying 
the  minds  and  hearts  of  his  hearers,  when  he  is  fairly  engaged, 
and  has  a  sea  of  crystal  faces  before  him.  He  speaks  without 
notes,  and  is  so  careless,  withal,  that  he  preserves  no  minutes 
of  his  speeches ;  consequently,  when  he  responds  to  a  second 
invitation  to  visit  a  place,  he  is  apt  to  repeat  the  same  stories, 
although  he  has  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  unused  material 
always  on  hand.  He  has  studied  human  nature  so  thoroughly 
he  knows  how  to  reach  the  hearts  of  the  masses.  If  the  people 
will  but  listen  to  his  lectures,  they  will  open  their  mouths  so 
earnestly  he  could  almost  reach  their  hearts  by  the  way  of  the 
CEsophagus.  Mr.  White  is  personally  known  on  the  green 
mountains  of  Vermont,  on  the  granite  hills  of  New  Hampshire, 
in  the  pleasant  valley  of  the  Connecticut,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Mississippi ;  has  hosts  of  friends  at  the  sunny  South,  at  the 


270  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

stormy  North,  and  the  far-off  West.  Years  ago  he  made  th« 
tour  of  Europe.  At  that  time  he  was  fond  of  luxurious  living 
and  unweaned  from  the  wine-cup ;  he  was  a  good  judge  ot 
Otard  and  Madeira,  and  can  speak  from  personal  experience  on 
matters  pertaining  to  fashionable  drinking. 

Mr.  White  is  a  good  specimen  of  a  Kentucky  gentleman — 
gallant,  generous,  and  urbane.  Indeed,  he  can  accommodate 
himself  to  any  company,  and  would  be  a  welcome  guest  at  the 
table  of  a  duke,  or  feel  perfectly  at  home  in  the  cottage  of  a 
peasant.  He  must  have  been  a  studious  man  in  his  day,  but 
he  has  bravely  overcome  that  habit  now ;  for  he  would  rather 
hold  a  man  by  the  button  all  day,  entertaining  him  by  telling 
stories,  than  to  read  a  page  or  write  a  "  stick-full "  of  matter 
for  a  newspaper.  When  he  has  a  report  to  make,  he  will 
throw  the  burden,  if  he  can  possibly  do  so,  on  shoulders  not  so 
able  to  bear  it  as  his  own,  and  he  will  put  off  the  unwelcome 
task  to  the  last  hour,  then  dash  off  an  impromptu  report,  and 
beauty  will  break  out  of  statistics  and  facts,  like  flowers  on  the 
rod  of  Aaron.  Sometimes  he  visits  Subordinate  Divisions  of 
his  favorite  Order,  as  well  as  Sections  of  the  juvenile  Cadets, 
to  fire  the  zeal,  strengthen  the  faith,  and  encourage  the  hopes 
of  the  "  Sons  "  and  their  sons.  I  once  heard  him  address  one 
of  the  latter  societies  on  the  evils  arising  from  the  use  of  to 
bacco,  but,  unfortunately,  he  had  that  evening  quite  a  gathering 
in  his  own  mouth,  which  somewhat  choked  his  utterance.  The 
not  altogether  unusual  swelling  somewhat  disappeared  before 
the  meeting  adjourned,  and  it  is  hoped  that  by  this  time  he 
has  got  entirely  rid  of  it. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  2*71 

Mr.  White  is  good  company,  a  good  storj-teller,  and  a  ter 
ror  to  al]  liypochondriacism  and  dyspepsia.  Blessed  are  they 
who  hear  his  voice  and  see  his  face,  for  they  shall  laugh  and 
grow  fat.  I  am  no  stickler  for  empty  dignity,  but  remain 
under  the  impression  that  Mr.  W.  is  not  so  dignified  at  the 
fireside  as  he  is  in  the  forum.  There  are  vulgar  persons  who 
call  him  the  Hon.  Philip  S.  White  when  they  speak  of  his 
public  efforts,  and  yet  abbreviate  the  title  to  Phil,  in  their 
personal  interourse  with  him.  He  is  no  favorite  with  those 
who  will  not  "give  up  a  'pint'  of  doctrine  nor  a  pint  of  rum," 
for  as  the  bottle-imp  of  Asmodeus  unroofed  the  houses  of 
Madrid,  for  the  gratification  of  Le  Sage's  servant,  so  he  uncovers 
the  hearts  of  those  whose  bigotry  or  appetite  or  interest  oppose 
the  temperance  reformation.  Mr.  White  is  by  profession  a 
lawyer,  and,  if  I  am  correctly  informed,  was  at  one  period  of 
his  life  Attorney-General  of  one  of  the  Western  Territories. 
He  is  proud  of  his  lineage,  and  is  not  backward  in  speaking 
about  his  former  position  in  society,  which  is  in  bad  taste,  since 
he  is  now  in  a  loftier  position  than  any  Baronet  of  England. 

The  fraternity,  I  think,  manifested  forecast  worthy  of  their 
trust  when  they  selected  him  to  be  their  leader,  for  his  abun 
dant  self-sacrificing  and  faithful  labors  in  this  country  and  in 
the  neighboring  Provinces,  have  accomplished  incalculable 
good  to  the  cause  in  general,  and  won  unfading  laurels  for  him 
in  particular.  He  is  the  author  of  a  work  entitled  the  "  War 
of  Four  Thousand  Years,"  and  a  tract  entitled  "  Vindication 
of  the  Order."  It  is  a  pity  that  he  did  not  give  a  more  Chris 
tian  name  to  the  first,  and  a  matter  of  regret  that  he  went 


272  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

into  partnership  with  others  in  writing  either.  His  acrnirera 
would  like  to  see  a  book  from  his  own  pen,  and  know  that  he 
wrote  it.  His  idea  of  a  national  newspaper  organ,  to  be 
managed  by  some  master-mind  of  the  National  Division,  does 
not  meet  with  general  approval,  because  it  would  be  unwise  to 
put  such  power  into  the  hands  of  one  man ,  because  it  would 
narrow  the  circulation  of  the  local  papers  to  the  starving  point ; 
because  one  sheet  would  not  suit  every  meridian ;  because  the 
temperance  press  now  in  operation  is  not  properly  sustained ; 
because  there  is  as  much  editorial  tact  and  talent  connected 
with  the  local  press  as  can  be  found  in  the  National  Division ; 
because  monopolies  are  monsters  not  favorable  to  the  growth 
of  Love,  Purity,  or  Fidelity,  the  characteristics  of  our  Order. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


CHARLES  SUMNER. 

NEW  YORK  is  the  head-quarters  of  commerce,  a  great  wil 
derness  of  marble  and  mortar,  the  abode  of  merchant  princea 
and  millionaires.  Its  harbor  is  crowded  with  ships  from  every 
nation,  its  mammoth  mercantile  establishments  contain  every 
variety  of  fabric  and  produce,  its  streets  are  busy  as  a  broken 
ant-heap,  its  spires  point,  like  fingers  of  pilgrims,  to  the  land 
of  the  beautiful  above,  and  its  grog-shops  are  plentiful  as  car 
buncles  on  the  face  of  the  toper.  It  has  the  best  editors,  and 
the  poorest  speakers,  of  any  city  in  the  Union.  Philadelphia 
is  noted  for  handsome  buildings  erected  on  straight  lines.  It 
is  the  metropolis  of  magazinedom,  where  Graham  and  Godey 
make  gold  and  win  golden  honors.  It  is  famed  for  the  bro 
therly  love  of  its  inhabitants,  which  trait  is  beautifully  displayed 
in  the  manner  in  which  they  get  up  rows  and  send  their  fel 
low-citizens  to  Heaven.  Boston  is  the  bank  of  New-England, 
the  beacon-light  of  reform,  the  seat  of  science  and  learning,  the 
forum  of  chaste,  classical,  thrilling,  heart-quaking,  soul-stirring 
eloquence.  There  is  no  city  in  the  United  States  that  contains 
so  much  speaking  talent  as  Boston.  Baltimore  is  choleric, 
noisy,  and  patriotic ;  Philadelphia  is  fastidious,  lymphatic,  and 
metaphysical;  Washington  is  like  Babel,  where  there  is  a  con 
fusion  of  languages,  or  like  a  vineyard  of  lazy  laborers,  where 
12*  * 


274  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

there  is  a  "  winey"  atmosphere ;  New  York  is  energetic,  bom 
bastic,  and  original ;  Cincinnati  is  slow  of  speech,  but  sound 
at  the  heart ;  Boston  is  radical,  forcible,  eloquent. 

Among  the  most  eminent  speakers  in  the  modern  Athens, 
Charles  •  Sumner  stands  preeminently  conspicuous,  for  tho 
classic  elegance  of  his  style,  the  Protean  power  of  his  thought, 
and  the  finished  beauty  of  his  illustrations.  He  is  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  men  of  this  remarkable  age,  and  a  combi 
nation  of  circumstances  have  rendered  him  the  darling 
favorite  of  good  fortune.  He  was  cradled  in  Faneuil  Hall, 
Judge  Story  was  his  teacher,  and  Harvard  University  the 
school  in  which  he  was  taught.  When  he  had  availed  him 
self  of  the  advantages  afforded  by  this  institution  of  learn 
ing,  he  made  the  tour  of  the  continent.  England,  France 
and  Germany  contributed  liberally  to  his  store  of  knowledge. 
If  he  has  not  an  ample  competence,  he  has  what  is  better— 
an  army  of  friends  and  a  thorough  education. 

Charles  Sumner  is  a  stockholder  in  the  bank  of  original 
thought.  We  may  know  he  has  considerable  bullion  there, 
for  his  drafts  are  honored  at  sight,  and  our  first  men  are  his 
endorsers.  He  has  great  power  of  condensation,  without  the 
wearisome  monotony  which  often  accompanies  the  writings 
and  sayings  of  close  thinkers  and  rigid  reasoners.  There  is  a 
vigorous  and  graceful  stateliness,  an  easy  felicity,  a  fastidious 
accuracy,  and  an  imperial  dignity  in  his  style,  which  is  both 
commanding  and  fascinating.  There  is  a  vast  breadth  of  com 
prehension  and  a  vast  depth  of  meaning  in  his  matter.  There 
is  also  a  luminous  beauty,  a  Gothic  grandeur,  a  sublime  gor- 
geousness,  in  his  labored  and  polished  essays,  which  entitle 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  2*75 

them  to  the  appellation  of  prose  poems.  He  sometimes  invests 
his  ideas  in  such  lively,  such  attractive,  such  speaking,  such 
mo.gic  language,  and  displays  so  much  philosophical  sagacity, 
so  much  poetical  sensibility,  so  much  profound  knowledge  of 
ecclesiastical  and  political  history,  the  reader  and  the  listenei 
are  carried  away  on  the  current,  while  they  are  admiring, 
almost  adoring,  the  man  whose  kindling  words  have  set  their 
imaginations  on  fire. 

Mr.  Sumner's  orations  are  written  with  great  care.  They 
abound  with  allusions  to  the  sayings  and  doings  of  the  ancients, 
and  manifest  deep  research  and  profound  thought.  His  bril 
liant  arguments  at  the  bar  have  elicited  unbounded  admira 
tion,  and  his  model  manner  of  delivery  enhances  the  value  of 
his  eloquent  appeals.  The  dreary  desert  of  a  common  case  is 
sure  to  bloom  with  garden  beauty  under  his  management. 
The  forum,  however,  is  his  forte.  He  has  the  dignity  of  Pitt, 
without  his  pompous  declamation;  the  sublimity  of  Burke, 
without  his  tedious  uniformity ;  the  vigor  of  Fox,  without  his 
roughness.  He  is  not  so  fluent  as  the  first,  not  so  classical  as 
the  second,  not  so  ready  and  original  as  the  third.  He  has 
more  solidity  but  less  eloquence  than  Phillips ;  more  energy 
but  less  originality  than  Mann;  more  poetry  and  as  much 
polish  as  Everett.  His  heart  is  not  an  island,  separated  from 
his  head,  but  a  peninsula,  uniting  one  with  the  other.  There 
is  a  relationship  between  the  throb  of  the  former  and  the 
thought  of  the  latter.  There  is  a  joining  of  impulse  and  intel 
lect.  The  affections  and  the  reflections  are  brothers  and  sisters- 
The  heart  thinks  and  feels,  the  head  feels  and  thinks. 


276  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

In  this  respect  Mr.  Suraner  differs  from  not  a  few  distin* 
guished  men.  Sumner  believes  in  Christian  law,  and  throws 
the  weight  of  his  influence,  the  force  of  his  example,  and  the 
skill  of  his  profession,  in  the  scale  of  the  right  and  true.  He 
is  a  preacher  of  peace,  a  lover  of  freedom,  a  worker  for  prison 
amelioration — in  short,  a  noble  soldier  in  the  ranks  of  reform. 
With  a  generous,  impulsive  nature,  he  feels  the  woes  and  sut 
ferings  of  every  portion  of  the  human  family. 

Charles  Sumner  is  a  popular  man.  The  masses  admire  him 
because  there  is  no  "  dough  "  in  his  face,  no  demagogueism  in 
his  politics.  The  turncoats,  flunkeys,  time-servers,  office-seek 
ers,  and  political  hypocrites  of  every  party,  fear  him  as  the 
enemies  of  Greece  did  the  Athenian  orator,  but  they  cannot 
despise  him,  they  cannot  ostracise  him,  they  cannot  make  him 
false  to  his  convictions.  Hence  he  is  the  man  the  people 
delight  to  honor,  though  he  seeks  no  popular  applause.  He 
is  now  in  the  prime  of  manhood,  and  the  star  of  his  fame  is 
in  the  ascendant.  In  person,  he  is  tall,  well-proportioned, 
with  a  low  but  broad  forehead,  light  magnetic  eyes,  and  a 
luxuriant  growth  of  dark  brown  hair.  He  has  a  long,  uneven 
face,  which  is  marked  with  the  manly  traits  for  which  he  is 
distinguished.  His  smile  is  very  sunny  and  infectious,  and  his 
greeting  very  cordial ;  he  walks  with  firmness,  and  swings  his 
arms  (especially  when  upon  the  platform)  as  though  he  designed 
to  knock  down  the  obstacles  in  his  way ;  has  a  full,  rich  bass 
voice,  which  becomes  very  seductive  as  he  proceeds  in  his 
speech,  enlisting  irresistibly  the  attention,  and  appealing 
warmly  to  the  feelings.  When  he  is  intensely  excited,  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  ZVi 

tones  of  hia  voice  move  one  like  the  blast  of  a  bugle.  As  »r 
orator,  he  has  but  few  superiors. 

Mr.  Simmer  would  excel  as  a  diplomatist,  for  he  has  that 
peculiar  ingenuity  arid  intuitive  skill  which  would  enable  him 
to  disentangle  the  complicated  questions  that  would  come 
before  him  for  arbitrament.  When  his  party  desire  to  move 
the  political  world,  they  are  apt  to  shift  it  upon  his  Atlantean 
shoulders.  Is  there  a  great  gulf  between  Dives  the  demagogue, 
and  Lazarus  of  his  own  league? — He  will  bridge  over  the 
chasm,  if  it  can  be  done,  and  unite  them  in  mutual  friendship, 
without  sacrificing  truth  and  right  on  the  altar  of  compromise. 
But  some  say  Mr.  Sumner  is  not  sufficiently  practical.  Ho 
hopes  to  see  the  dawn  of  a  golden  future,  and  mistakes  the 
scintillating  lights  of  the  Northern  skies  for  the  sunrise  of  the 
millennial  day.  Although  he  is  ambitious  in  worthy  causes, 
he  is  wise,  and  patiently  bides  his  time,  without  egotistically 
thrusting  himself  before  the  people ;  is  fond  of  fame,  but  when 
he  is  crowned  with  honors,  his  modesty  is  equal  to  his  grati 
tude.  Has  a  Faneuil-Hall-full  of  affectionate  admirers  in  his 
own  city,  and  multitudes  of  them  elsewhere. 

As  might  be  expected  from  his  heart-sympathies,  Mr.  Sum 
ner  early  connected  himself  with  the  Free  Soil  party ;  indeed, 
was  one  of  its  originators, — and  without  question  is  one  of  the 
ablest  men  in  it — and  politicians  of  all  shades  of  opinion  will 
agree  that  that  party  embodies  a  large  share  of  intellectual, 
moral,  and  personal  strength.  Recent  events  in  the  political 
affairs  of  Massachusetts  have  placed  Mr.  Sumner  conspicuously 
before  the  community  as  a  candidate  for  the  United  State* 


278  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

Senate.  If  he  should  receive  the  honor  of  that  post,  he  would 
be  more  of  a  statesman  than  a  partisan,  more  of  a  sound,  humane 
political  economist  than  the  mouth-piece  of  a  faction — and  1 
need  not  say,  would  do  honor  to  the  State  he  represents.  His 
benevolence  of  character  never  will  allow  him  to  be  a  party 
demagogue,  but  for  all  that  gives  dignity  to  manhood  or  exalts 
true  political  science,  he  has  every  requisite.* 

The  following  extracts  are  from  a  speech  delivered  in  Faneuil 
Hal],  previous  to  his  election  to  a  seat  in  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States.  This  speech  is  not  so  highly  polished  nor  so 
argumentative  as  some  of  his  addresses,  but  it  is  the  most 
graphic  and  eloquent  he  has  uttered. 

"The  soul  sickens  in  the  contemplation  of  this  legalized 
outrage.  In  the  dreary  annals  of  the  past,  there  are  many 
acts  of  shame — there  are  ordinances  of  monarchs,  and  laws, 
which  have  become  a  by-word  and  a  hissing  to  the  nations. 
But,  when  we  consider  the  country  and  the  age,  I  ask  fear 
lessly,  What  act  of  shame,  what  ordinance  of  monarch,  what 
law  can  compare  in  atrocity  with  this  enactment  of  an  Ameri 
can  Congress  ?  ['  None.']  I  do  not  forget  Appius  Claudius, 
the  tyrant  Decemvir  of  ancient  Rome,  condemning  Virginia 
as  a  slave ;  nor  Louis  XIV.,  of  France,  letting  slip  the  dogs 
of  religious  persecution  by  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of 
Nantes ;  nor  Charles  I.,  of  England,  arousing  the  patriot-rage 
of  Hampden  by  the  extortion  of  Ship-money ;  nor  the  British 

*  Since  the  above  was  written,  Mr.  Summer  has  been  elected  to  the  United 
States  Senate 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  279 

Parliament,  provoking,  in  our  own  country,  spirits  kindred  tc 
Harnpden,  by  the  tyranny  of  the  Stamp  Act  and  the  Tea  Tax. 
I  would  not  exaggerate ;  I  wish  to  keep  within  bounds ;  but  4 
think  no  person  can  doubt  that  the  condemnation  now  affixed 
to  all  these  transactions,  and  to  their  authors,  must  be  the  lot 
hereafter  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill,  and  of  every  one,  according 
to  the  measure  of  his  influence,  who  gave  it  his  support.  [Three 
cheers  were  here  given.]  Into  the  immortal  catalogue  of 
national  crimes  this  has  now  passed,  drawing  after  it,  by  an 
inexorable  necessity,  its  authors  also,  and  chiefly  him,  who,  as 
President  of  the  United  States,  set  his  name  to  the  Bill,  and 
breathed  into  it  that  final  breath  without  which  it  would  have 
no  life.  [Sensation.]  Other  Presidents  may  be  forgotten ; 
but  the  name  signed  to  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill  can  never  be 
forgotten.  ['  Never  !']  There  are  depths  of  infamy,  as  there 
are  heights  of  fame.  [Applause.]  I  regret  to  say  what  I 
must ;  but  truth  compels  me.  Better  for  him  had  he  never 
been  born !  [Renewed  applause.]  Better  far  for  his  memory, 
and  for  the  good  name  of  his  children,  had  he  never  been 
President !  [Repeated  cheers.] 

"Surely  the  love  of  Freedom  cannot  have  so  far  cooled 
among  us,  the  descendants  of  those  who  opposed  the  Stamp 
Act,  that  we  are  insensible  to  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill.  The 
unconquerable  rage  of  the  people,  in  those  other  days,  com 
pelled  the  Stamp-distributors  and  inspectors  to  renounce  their 
offices,  and  held  up  to  detestation  all  who  dared  to  speak  in 
favor  of  the  Stamps.  And  shall  we  be  more  tolerant  of  those 
who  volunteer  in  favor  of  this  Bill?  ['No!  no!1]— more 


280  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  ANfl 

tolerant  of  the  Slave-hunter,  who,  under  its  safeguard,  pursues 
his  prey  upon  our  soil  ?  ['  No !  rib  !']  The  Stamp  Act  could 
not  be  executed  here  ?  Can  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill  2 
['Never!'] 

"  And  here,  sir,  let  me  say,  that  it  becomes  me  to  speak 
with  peculiar  caution.  It  happens  to  me  to  sustain  an  impor 
tant  relation  to  this  Bill.  Early  in  professional  life  I  was 
designated  by  the  late  Mr.  Justice  Story  one  of  the  Com 
missioners  of  the  Courts  of  the  United  States,  and  though  I 
have  not  very  often  exercised  the  functions  of  this  post,  yei 
my  name  is  still  upon  the  list.  As  such  I  am  one  of  those 
before  whom,  under  the  recent  Act  of  Congress,  the  panting 
fugitive  may  be  brought  for  the  decision  of  the  question 
whether  he  is  a  freeman  or  slave.  But,  while  it  becomes  me 
to  speak  with  caution,  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  speak  with  plain 
ness.  I  cannot  forget  that  I  am  a  man,  although  I  am  a 
Commissioner.  [Enthusiastic  cheers.] 

"  Did  the  same  spirit  which  inspired  our  fathers,  inspire  the 
community  now,  the  marshals,  and  every  magistrate  who 
regarded  this  law  as  having  any  constitutional  obligation, 
would  resign  rather  than  presume  to  execute  it.  This,  how 
ever,  is  too  much  to  expect  from  all  at  present.  But  I  will 
not  judge  them.  To  their  own  consciences  I  leave  them. 
Surely,  no  person  of  humane  feelings,  and  with  any  true  sense 
of  justice — living  in  a  land  '  where  bells  have  tolled  to 
church ' — whatever  may  be  the  apology  of  public  station, 
could  fail  to  recoil  from  such  service.  For  myself,  let  me  say 
that  I  can  imagine  no  office,  no  salary,  no  consideration, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  281 

which  I  would  not  gladly  forego,  rather  than  become  in  any 
way  an  agent  in  enslaving  niy  brother  man.  [Sensation.] 
Where  for  me  would  be  comfort  and  solace,  after  such  a 
work  ?  In  dreams  and  in  waking  hours,  in  solitude  and  in 
the  street,  in  the  meditations  of  the  closet,  and  in  the  affairs 
of  men,  wherever  I  turned,  there  my  victim  would  stare  me  in 
the  face ;  from  the  distant  rice-fields  and  cotton-plantations  of 
the  South,  his  cries  beneath  the  vindictive  lash,  his  moans,  at 
the  thought  of  liberty  once  his,  now,  alas !  ravished  from  him, 
would  pursue  me,  telling  the  tale  of  his  fearful  doom,  and 
sounding  in  my  ears,  '  Thou  art  the  man !'  [Rapturous 
applause.] 

"  Sir,  I  will  not  dishonor  this  home  of  the  Pilgrims,  and  of 
the  Revolution,  by  admitting — nay,  /  cannot  believe — that 
this  Bill  will  be  executed  here.  ['  Never !']  Individuals 
among  us,  as  elsewhere,  may  forget  humanity  in  a  fancied 
loyality  to  law ;  but  the  public  conscience  will  not  allow  a 
man,  who  has  trodden  our  streets  as  a  freeman,  to  be  dragged 
away  as  a  slave.  [Applause.]  By  his  escape  from  bondage, 
he  has  shown  that  true  manhood,  which  must  grapple  to  him 
every  honest  heart.  He  may  be  ignorant,  and  rude,  as  he  is 
poor,  but  he  is  of  a  true  nobility.  The  Fugitive  Slaves  of 
the  United  States  are  among  the  heroes  of  our  age.  In  sacri 
ficing  them  to  this  foul  enactment  of  Congress,  we  should 
violate  every  sentiment  of  hospitality,  every  whispering  of  the 
heart,  every  dictate  of  religion. 

"  There  are  many  who  will  never  shrink  at  any  cost,  and 
notwithstanding  all  the  atrocious  penalties  of  this  Bill,  from 


282  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

efforts  to  save  a  wandering  fellow-man  from  bondage ;  the) 
will  offer  him  the  shelter  of  their  houses,  and,  if  need  be,  will 
protect  his  liberty  by  force.  But,  let  me  ""be  understood,  I 
counsel  no  violence.  There  is  another  power — stronger  than 
any  individual  arm — which  I  invoke ;  I  mean  that  invincible 
Public  Opinion,  inspired  by  love  of  God  and  man,  which, 
without  violence  or  noise,  gently  as  the  operations  of  nature, 
makes  and  unmakes  laws.  Let  this  opinion  be  felt  in  its 
Christian  might,  and  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill  will  become 
everywhere  upon  our  soil,  a  dead  letter.  No  lawyer  will  aid 
it  by  counsel ;  no  citizen  will  become  its  agent  •,  it  will  die  of 
inanition — like  a  spider  beneath  an  exhausted  receiver.  0  ! 
it  were  well  the  tidings  should  spread  throughout  the  land, 
that  here,  in  Massachusetts,  this  accursed  Bill  has  found  no 
servants.  [Cheers.]  '  Sire,  I  have  found  in  Bayonne  honest 
citizens  and  brave  soldiers  only ;  but  not  one  executioner, ,'  was 
the  reply  of  the  governor  of  that  place  to  the  royal  mandate 
of  Charles  IX.,  of  France,  ordering  the  Massacre  of  St.  Bar 
tholomew.  [Sensation.] 

"  But  it  rests  with  you,  my  fellow-citizens,  by  your  words 
and  your  example,  by  your  calm  determinations  and  your 
devoted  lives,  to  do  this  work.  From  a  humane,  just,  and 
religious  people,  shall  spring  a  Public  Opinion,  to  keep  per 
petual  guard  over  the  liberties  of  all  within  our  borders.  Nay, 
more,  like  the  flaming  sword  of  the  cherubim  at  the  gates  of 
Paradise,  turning  on  every  side,  it  shall  prevent  any  Slave- 
Hunter  from  ever  setting  foot  in  this  Commonwealth! 
[Cheers  redoubled.]  Elsewhere,  he  may  pursue  his  human 


OFF-HAND    TARINGS.  283 

prey ;  he  may  empioy  nis  congenial  bloodhounds,  and  exult 
in  his  successful  game.  But  into  Massachusetts  he  must 
not  come  !  [Immense  enthusiasm.]  And  yet  again  I  say, 
I  counsel  no  violence.  I  would  not  touch  his  person.  Not 
with  whips  and  thongs  would  I  scourge  him  from  the 
land.  The  contempt,  the  indignation,  the  abhorrence  of  the 
community,  shall  be  our  weapons  of  offence.  Wherever  he 
moves,  he  shall  find  no  house  to  receive  him — no  table 
spread  to  nourish  him — no  welcome  to  cheer  him.  The 
dismal  lot  of  the  Roman  exile  shall  be  his.  He  shall  be  a 
wanderer,  without  roof,  fire,  or  water.  [Sensation.]  Men 
shall  point  at  him  in  the  streets,  and  on  the  highways : 

"  '  Sleep  shall  neither  night  nor  day 

Hang  upon  his  pent-house  lid  j 

He  shall  live  a  man  forbid. 
Weary  seven  nights,  nine  times  nine, 
Shall  he  dwindle,  peak,  and  pine.' 

The  villages,  towns  and  cities  shall  refuse  to  receive  the  mon 
ster  ;  they  shall  vomit  him  forth,  never  again  to  disturb 
the  repose  of  our  community."  [Repeated  rounds  of  applause.] 


284  CRAYON'  SKETCHES,  AND 


OGDEJ\T    HOFFMAN. 

IN  this  country  newspaper  notoriety  is  so  easily  obtained, 
printed  compliments  by  the  column-full  being  sold  for  a  dol 
lar  or  a  dinner,  it  is  not  considered  a  difficult  task  to  become 
immortal,  nor  very  desirable  to  enter  the  prize  list  with  such 
ambitious  competitors  for  the  laurel  of  fame.  A  quack  who 
knows  not  the  difference  between  the  veins  and  the  vertebra?, 
and  a  pettifogger  who  never  read  a  page  of  law,  can  buy  repu 
tation  for  a  shilling  a  line,  go  to  bed  an  obscure  ignoramus, 
and  find  himseff  famous  in  the  morning.  Now  this  state  of 
society  is  so  sickening  to  men  of  sterling  talent  and  true 
genius,  that  few  who  have  the  ring  of  true  metal  in  them 
care  to  tumble  in  such  a  promiscuous  scramble  for  a  great 
name. 

But  there  are  men,  who,  like  the  oak  king  of  the  forest,  stand 
firmly  anchored  in  the  soil,  while  saplings  strew  the  vale  or 
lean  upon  its  branches,  and  look  through  its  buds  into  the 
future,  when  the  forests  folded  in  its  acorn  cups  shall  be  the 
pride  and  glory  of  the  hills  and  plains. 

Ogden  Hoffman  is  such  a  man,  and  his  name  is  as  familiar 
in  the  Great  Metropolis  and  the  Empire  State  as  household 
words. 

He  comes  of  good  stock  too,  learned  in  the  law.  His 
father,  Josiah  Ogden  Hoffman,  being  the  contemporary  of 


OFF-HANI;  TAKINGS.  285 

Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  Judge  Story,  Williams,  and  others 
of  that  calibre,  when  to  maintain  one's  position  in  the  forensic 
arena  was  no  child's  play.  And  he  occupied  the  bench  too 
at  a  time  when  it  was  the  reward  of  deep  study  and  great 
ability,  not  as  now,  often  obtained  as  the  result  of  successful 
political  chicanery. 

His  brother,  Charles  Fenno  Hoffman,  has  occupied  in  the 
literary  world,  both  as  a  brilliant  poet  (he  has  written  some 
of  the  sweetest  things  in  our  language),  and  as  a  novelist,  a 
position  of  enviable  notoriety.  But  to  return  to  Ogden,  the 
subject  of  our  present  sketch.  Who,  among  the  inhabitants  of 
New  York,  does  not  recollect  the  sensation  that  occurred  in 
the  minds  of  the  people  in  the  good  old  days  of  Andrew 
Jackson  and  old-fashioned  democracy,  when  the  news  was 
spread  abroad  that  Ogden  Hoffman  and  Dudley  Selden,  mem 
bers  of  Congress  from  this  city,  had  refused  "  to  go  the  whole 
hog,"  but  had  come  out  flat-footed,  uncompromising  whigs  ? 
Deep  was  the  chagrin  of  the  b'hoys,  and  as  great  the  transport 
of  their  opponents.  And  to  this  day,  wherever  there  is  a 
whig  gathering,  and  the  masses  are  to  be  stirred  up  with  soul- 
breathing  eloquence,  there  will  be  heard  the  trumpet  voice  of 
Hoffman,  urging  them  to  do  their  duty  as  men,  and  to  vote 
as  becomes  freemen. 

The  great  power  of  Hoffman  is  before  a  jury.  There  is  a 
sweetness,  a  pleasantness  about  his  eloquence  that  is  very 
difficult  to  withstand,  and  when  excited  his  powerful  voice 
will  ring  like  a  clarion,  and  at  one  moment  he  will  draw  teara 
from  your  eyes  for  the  sorrows  of  his  client,  and  at  anothel 


286  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

convulse  you  with  indignation  for  the  wrongs  he  has  suffered. 
The  famous  Richard  P.  Robinson,  in  the  Helen  Jewett  case, 
no  doubt  owed  his  acquittal  to  his  matchless  eloquence. 

Mr.  Hoffman  we  should  judge  to  be  about  fifty  years  of 
age,  of  medium  height,  rather  inclining  to  be  stout.  He  has 
a  noble  forehead  and  finely-formed  head,  from  which  (from 
too  much  mental  application  probably),  the  hair  is  worn 
off  on  the  back  part.  He  has  fine,  expressive  eyes,  and  a 
countenance  generally  denoting  kindness  and  benevolence  of 
heart.  He  is  a  gentleman  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  urbane 
in  his  manners,  and  polite  in  his  address,  and  has  drank 
deep  at  the  fountains  of  both  law  and  general  literature.  No 
man  in  this  part  of  the  country  is  more  deservedly  popular. 
He  now  holds  the  responsible  office  of  Attorney-General  of 
the  State  of  New  York. 

It  is  truly  refreshing  to  find  a  man  whose  solid  learning, 
sound  sense,  and  professional  ability  have  been  appreciated, 
while  so  many  shams  and  pettifoggers  are  angling  in  every 
petty  quarrel  or  political  puddle  for  the  fish  which  has  the 
tribute  money. 


E.  L  SNOW. 

THE  HON.  E.  L.  SNOW,  who  has  won  an  enduring  reputa^ 
tion  as  a  consistent  and  conscientious  temperance  man,  was 
born  in  Boston,  in  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  where  he  was 
educated  and  honored  with  various  positions  of  public  trust. 
He  represented  one  of  the  wealthiest  wards  in  the  Puritan 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  287 

city  in  the  Common  Council,  and  held  high  office  in  the  Fira 
Department. 

In  1830,  he  left  Boston  and  commenced  business  in  the  city 
of  New  York.  Ten  years  afterwards,  when  the  Washingtoniana 
began  that  reform  which  revolutionized  the  drinking  usages  of 
society,  he  attended  their  meetings,  became  convinced  of  the 
illegitimacy  and  wickedness  of  the  rum-traffic,  in  which  he 
was  engaged — affixed  his  signature  to  the  pledge,  and  forth 
with  discontinued  the  disreputable  business. 

From  that  time  he  has  been  a  constant  and  efficient  advo 
cate  and  promoter  of  Temperance.  In  1842,  he  assumed  the 
editorial  management  and  proprietorship  of  the  New  York 
Organ,  one  of  the  ablest  journals  devoted  to  the  temperance 
enterprise.  On  the  29th  of  September,  1842,  he,  with  fifteen 
others,  instituted  the  order  of  the  Sons  of  Temperance,  and  he 
had  the  distinguished  honor  of  being  chosen  the  first  Worthy 
Associate  of  that  order.  In  1846,  as  a  compliment  to  him  for 
his  invaluable  services  in  spreading  the  principle  of  the  Sons 
of  Temperance,  his  friends  instituted  the  order  of  the  "  Snow 
Social  Union  " — a  society  composed  of  ladies  and  gentlemen 

Colonel  Snow  was  unanimously  chosen  commander  of  the 
first  temperance  military  company  known  in  the  United  States 
or  the  world — "  The  New  York  Temperance  Guards,"  a  noble 
body  of  men,  numbering  sixty  guns.  For  several  years  this  gen 
tleman  was  connected  with  the  New  York  police  establish 
ment,  and  in  1844  he  was  appointed  Mayor's  Marshal  by 
the  Hon.  James  Harper,  and  soon  after  received  from  the 
Common  Council  the  appointment  of  Clerk  of  Police.  He 


288  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

opened  a  pledge-book  at  his  desk,  and  during  the  four  years 
of  his  clerkship  he  obtained  upwards  of  ten  thousand  name? 
to  the  total  abstinence  pledge.  In  November,  1851,  he  wa^ 
nominated  for  the  Assembly,  and  after  a  severe  contest,  was 
elected  by  a  majority  of  three  votes.  His  election  was  con 
tested  before  the  Board  of  Canvassers,  and  declared  duly 
elected.  In  January  he  took  his  seat  in  the  Legislature. 
But  his  opponent  followed  him  to  Albany,  and  a  committee 
from  the  Assembly  heard  the  evidence  and  counsel  from  both 
sides,  and  reported  that  he  was  entitled  to  his  seat.  After 
ward,  however,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  the 
House  had  been  in  session  all  night,  and  some  of  his  friends 
were  absent,  and  many  of  his  enemies  were  intoxicated,  or 
bribed,  or  both,  his  seat  was  declared  vacant.  But  he  still 
continues  an  active  and  able  expounder  of  our  principles — 
being  an  able  debater  and  a  forcible  writer.  He  is  six  feet 
three  inches  in  height,  stoutly  built,  handsomely  framed,  and 
erect  as  a  liberty-pole.  He  has  the  voice  of  a  Stentor,  and 
can  fill  the  ears  of  twenty  thousand  hearere. 
Success  to  him,  and  honor  to  his  cause. 


THOMAS  FRANCIS  MEAGHER. 

THOMAS  FRANCIS  MEAGHER,  the  eloquent  Irish  Nationalist, 
is  a  native  of  Waterford.  He  was  born  August  3d,  1823. 
His  father,  the  present  representative  of  that  borough,  in  the 
British  Senate,  was  a  merchant,  extensively  engaged  in  the 
Newfoundland  trade,  from  which  he  realized  a  fine  fortune. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  289 

At  the  age  of  nine,  the  hero  of  this  sketch  was  sent  to  the 
Jesuit  College  of  Clongowes  Wood,  in  the  county  of  Kildare, 
where  he  remained  six  years,  when  he  was  removed  to  the 
celebrated  College  Stonyhurst,  near  Preston,  in  Lancashire, 
England,  where,  among  other  distinguished  men,  Richard 
Lalor  Sheil  was  educated.  Although  Meagher  was  more 
devoted  to  pleasure  than  study,  he  bore  away  the  bell  from 
all  competitors,  for  the  prizes  for  rhetoric  and  English  com 
position. 

In  1843,  he  left  Stonyhurst,  and  soon  afterwards  attended 
£he  great  National  Meeting,  under  the  auspices  of  O'Connell, 
which  took  place  at  Kilkenny,  and  here  the  youthful  orator 
made  his  first  appearance,  although  not  yet  twenty  years  of 
age.  From  that  day  his  heart  and  soul  were  dedicated  and 
devoted  to  the  welfare  of  Ireland. 

In  1848,  the  "Confederation"  adopted  an  address  to  the 
French,  on  their  achievement  of  a  republic,  and  Meagher  was 
one  of  the  delegates  selected  to  present  it  to  the  Provisional 
Government  in  Paris.  On  his  return,  he  presented  an  Irish 
tricolor  to  the  citizens  of  Dublin.  "  From  Paris,"  said  he, 
"  I  trust  that  beneath  its  folds,  the  hand  of  the  Irish  Catholic, 
and  the  Irish  Protestant,  may  be  clasped  in  generous  and 
heroic  brotherhood.  Should  this  flag  be  destined  to  fan  the 
flames  of  war,  let  England  behold  once  more,  upon  that  white 
centre  "  the  red  hand  "  that  struck  her  down  from  the  hills  of 
Ulster ;  and  I  pray  that  heaven  may  bless  the  vengeance  it 
is  sure  to  kindle." 

On  the  21st  of  March,  Meagher  was  arrested  on  a  charge 
13 


290  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

of  sedition,  as  also  were  Mitchel  and  O'Brien ;  bail  was  a  9 
cepted  for  their  appearance  at  the  Court  of  Queen's  Bench, 
The  passage  of  the  Treason  Felony  Act,  their  speaking  and 
organizing  being  peremptorily  forbidden,  the  opposition  of  the 
priesthood,  with  a  combination  of  other  causes,  precluded  the 
possibility  of  "their  rising  by  harvest  time."  Mitchel  was 
arrested  a  second  time,  and  a  reward  of  £500  offered  for  the 
"  Young  Rebel "  (Meagher).  After  a  series  of  adventures  he 
was  finally  captured  near  Rathgannon,  on  the  road  between 
Clonoulty  and  Holy  Cross ;  this  was  in  the  month  of  August. 
He  was  tried  in  October,  and  the  sentence  of  death  pro 
nounced  against  him.  The  sentence  was  subsequently  com 
muted  to  banishment  for  life,  and  on  the  9th  of  July,  1849, 
he  was  transported  to  Van  Diemen's  Land,  from  which  place 
he  escaped  in  1852. 

In  December,  1852,  "The  Speeches  of  Thomas  Francis 
Meagher  "  on  the  Legislative  Independence  of  Ireland,  were 
collected,  and  published  by  Redfield.  New  York,  with  elabo 
rate  notes  on  the  state  of  Ireland,  and  the  cotemporary  his 
tory  of  the  European  revolutions,  by  his  friend,  Mr.  John 
Savage.  It  at  once  rose  in  public  favor,  and  is,  we  believe, 
at  present  in  the  fifth  edition. 

A  critic  in  a  southern  journal  speaking  of  the  subject  of 
our  sketch,  says :  "As  an  orator,  Meagher  stands  original  and 
alone.  He  is  no  copy  of  a  copy,  no  second-hand  Cicero  or 
diminutive  Demosthenes  ;  he  can  neither  imitate  nor  be  imi 
tated  ;  he  is  a  master  who  has  had  no  model,  and  no  follower. 
His  figure  ^nd  features  are  not  more  his  own  than  his  elo- 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  291 

quence ;  and  his  words  are  unaffectedly  natural  offsprings  of 
his  soul,  as  his  frowns  or  smiles.  Out  of  the  great  mine  of 
his  heart  does  he  dig  his  huge  thoughts,  reined  all  by  threads 
of  gold,  which  sparkle  in  the  sun."  This  is  great  praise ; 
but  the  power  capable  of  raising  the  indignation  and  chas 
tisement  of  the  politic  British  Government  must  certainly  be 
of  no  medium  or  mediocre  character. 

The  modesty  of  Mr.  Meagher  is  only  surpassed  by  his  bril 
liant  talents.  When  before  an  audience,  he  has  not  only  the 
"  poet's  vision  and  the  faculty  divine,"  but  a  river-like  flow  of 
graceful  and  beautiful  language.  His  lectures  and  speeches, 
to  which  reference  has  already  been  made,  abound  in  appro 
priate  imagery,  striking  illustration,  classic  allusion,  and  poeti 
cal  expression.  His  voice  is  rich  and  full,  and  gives  unmis 
takable  evidence  that  a  man  stands  behind  it.  In  manner 
he  is  polite,  pleasant  and  frank,  but  dignified.  In  person  he  is 
rather  robust,  with  a  florid  complexion,  blue  eyes,  and  dark 
brown  hair.  Although  a  Catholic,  it  is  evident  he  is  no  favo 
rite  with  the  Jesuit  priesthood — indeed,  until  quite  recently  they 
have  treated  him  with  indignity,  having  pelted  him  with 
paragraphs  in  the  newspapers,  and  bespattered  him  with  hints 
from  the  pulpit.  At  the  present  writing  he  is  in  California, 
where  he  is  making  a  great  sensation  among  the  people  in  the 
golden  land.  He  is  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Citizen,  and  it 
is  to  be  hoped  he  does  not  sympathise  with  his  co-laborer  on 
the  subject  of  slavery.  He  is  a  great  favorite  with  the  masses 
everywhere,  and  almost  idolized  by  his  own  countrymen. 
Crowded  houses  greet  him  in  city  and  country,  and  handsome 
compensation  rewards  his  labors. 


292  CRAYON    SKETCHES.    AND 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 

WENDELL  PHILLIPS  is  the  Patrick  Henry  of  New-England 
If  he  has  less  natural  eloquence,  less  thrilling  pathos,  than  the 
orator  of  the  Revolution,  he  has  more  polish  and  as  much 
power  of  origination.  He  is  a  ripe  scholar,  a  lawyer  of  no 
ordinary  calibre,  a  magazine  writer  of  considerable  note,  and 
a  reformer  of  the  most  radical  school.  He  is  the  pet  speaker 
of  the  East.  He  has  great  power  of  perception,  sincere 
sympathy  for  the  oppressed,  and  wonderful  command  over 
the  stores  of  varied  knowledge  treasured  up  in  his  retentive 
memory.  He  has  the  "  gifts  that  universities  cannot  bestow," 
the  current  coin  that  cannot  be  counterfeited  "  the  prophet's 
vision,"  the  poet's  fancy,  the  light  of  genius.  He  is  at  home 
on  the  mountain-top,  and  when  he  soars  skyward  he  is  not 
lost  among  the  clouds ;  has  all  the  sagacity  of  the  man  of 
business  united  with  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Utopian,  and  seems 
to  be  equally  related  to  Maia  the  Eloquent,  and  Jupiter  the 
Thunderer.  He  admires  the  eternal,  the  infinite,  the  heaven- 
like,  the  God-approximating  in  the  nature  of  man,  whatever 
may  be  the  color  of  the  envelope  that  contains  these  attri 
butes. 

Mr.  Phillips's  speeches  have  in  them  the  breath  of  life— 
hence  they  live  long  to  swell  the  bosom  and  make  the  heart 


OFF-HA^D    TAKINGS.  2U3 

throb.  "  He  does  not  go  to  the  lamp  of  the  old  schools  to 
light  his  torch,  but  dips  it  into  the  sun,  which  accounts  for  its 
gorgeous  effulgence."  He  is  something  of  a  metaphysician, 
but  is  too  much  absorbed  in  the  work  of  revolutionizing 
public  sentimeni,  to  devote  his  attention  to  subtle  research  and 
profound  analysis.  He  makes  but  little  preparation,  and 
always  speaks  extemporaneously ;  consequently  some  of  his 
addresses  are  like  a  beautiful  damsel  in  deshabille  ;  then  his 
quotations  are  ringlets  rolled  up  in  papers,  and  the  main  part 
of  the  lecture  like  a  loose  gown,  which  now  and  then  reveals 
a  neck  of  pearl  and  a  voluptuous  bust  of  snowy  whiteness 
and  beautiful  proportions.  He  is  often  brilliant,  never  tedious. 
Sometimes  his  scholarship  is  seen  conspicuously,  but  it  is 
never  pompously  displayed. 

It  is  a  rich  treat  to  hear  Wendell  Phillips  speak  to  a  large 
and  appreciative  audience.  Let  the  reader  fancy  he  is  at  a 
mass  meeting  in  some  forest  temple.  The  sun  shines  as 
though  delighted  with  the  gathering ;  the  shy  birds  perch  in 
silence  on  the  neighboring  trees,  as  though  they  were  aston 
ished  at  the  proceedings;  a  song  makes  the  welkin  ring. 
The  chairman  announces  the  name  of  a  favorite  speaker.  A 
genteel  man  steps  gracefully  upon  the  platform.  He  is 
neatly,  not  foppishly,  dressed.  A  pleasant  smile  illuminates 
his  noble  face.  He  leaps,  at  a  single  bound,  into  the  middle 
of  the  subject.  He  reasons,  and  his  logic  is  on  fire  ;  he  des 
cribes,  and  the  subject  is  daguerreotyped  on  the  retina  of 
memory;  he  quotes  from  some  classic  author,  and  the  ex 
cerpt  is  like  an  apple  of  gold  in  a  picture  of  silver ;  he  tells 


294  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

a  story,  and  the  impression  it  gives  is  indelible ;  he  makes  an 
appeal,  and  tears  flow  freely;  he  declaims,  and  the  people  are 
intensely  excited ;  he  soars,  and  his  lips  are- touched  with  a 
live  coal  from  the  altar  of  inspiration.  Mr.  Phillips  believes  in 
a  "  higher  law,"  so  he  appeals  to  the  sense  of  the  everlasting 
in  man.  "  He  plays  the  Titanic  game  of  rocks,  and  not  a 
game  of  tennis-balls,"  and  yet  he  "floods  the  heart  with 
singular  and  thrilling  pleasure."  "  He  is  the  primed  mouth 
piece  of  an  eloquent  discharge,  who  presents,  applies  the 
linstock  and  fires  off ;"  and  the  conservatives,  who  stand  with 
their  fingers  in  their  ears,  are  startled  by  the  report.  Is  there 
a  mob  ?  his  words  are  like  oil  on  the  troubled  billows  of  the 
chafed  sea ;  he  rebukes  the  winds  of  strife  and  the  waves  of 
faction,  and  there  is  a  great  calm.  The  serene  face  of  his 
bosom-friend,  the  leader  of  the  league,  is  radiant  with  smiles ; 
the  severe  front  of  a  turncoat  or  a  tyrant  present,  begins  to 
relax  ;  the  doughface  is  ashamed  of  himself,  and  determines 
that  hereafter  he  will  be  "  a  doer  and  not  dough ;"  the  stiff- 
limbed  finds  a  hinge  in  his  joints,  and  his  supple  knees  bow 
in  homage  to  the  speaker. 

But  I  must  find  some  fault,  or  I  shall  be  deemed  a 
flatterer.  Let  me  see — what  shall  I  say  ?  "  Oh,  he  is  an 
impracticable  radical;  he  goes  for  the  dissolution  of  the 
Union,  the  dismemberment  of  the  church,  the  destruction  of 
the  political  parties."  In  this  he  is  partly  right  and  partly 
wrong.  The  Christian  should  do  for  Christ's  sake  what  the 
worldling  does  for  the  sake  of  humanity,  then  there  will  be  no 
necessity  for  such  a  reproof.  The  body  politic  should  sever 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  295 

the  leprous  limb  of  slavery,  and  then  America  would  not  limp 
so  as  to  become  the  laughing-stock  and  a  by-word  of  the 
nations  of  the  earth.  The  political  parties  at  the  North  are 
leavened  with  anti-slavery  doctrines,  and  it  is  hoped  they  will 
soon  rise  to  the  level  of  that  benevolence  which  will  render 
such  rebukes  unnecessary.  I  declare  it  is  difficult  for  me  to 
find  any  fault  in  him.  Reader,  you  may  be  Herod,  but  I 
cannot  be  Pilate,  and  consent  to  his  crucifixion.  I  must  con 
fess  that  I  love  the  man,  although  I  cannot  endorse  all  his 
creed.  It  is  a  pity  that  he  limits  his  usefulness  by  his  fierce 
warfare  against  men  and  measures  that  are  too  long  or  too 
short  for  his  iron  bedstead. 

Mr.  Phillips  is  a  man  of  fortune,  and  one  of  the  distinguished 
few  who  contribute  to  support  the  enterprise  in  which  he 
feels  an  interest  as  much  as  he  expends  in  sustaining  himself 
and  famity.  Physically  he  is  a  noble  specimen  of  a  man.  His 
head  is  sparingly  covered  with  reddish  hair — 

"  The  golden  treasure  nature  showers  down 
[On  those  foredoomed  to  wear  Fame's  golden  crown." 

A.  phrenologist  would  pronounce  his  head  worth  more  than 
the  South  would  be  willing  or  able  to  give  for  it.  He  has 
large  ideality  and  sublimity,  hence  he  soars ;  large  comparison 
and  causality,  so  he  reasons  by  analogy  ;  large  hope  and 
benevolence,  and  the  genial  sunshine  of  good-nature  irradi 
ates  his  countenance ;  large  firmness  and  adhesiveness,  and  he 
abides  by  his  friends  through  evil  and  through  good  report. 
His  face  is  pleasant,  and  indicates  exquisite  taste,  pure  gene- 


296  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

rosity,  and  Roman  firmness.  He  is  now  in  the  full  vigor  of 
manhood,  and  ever  ready  at  a  moment's  warning  to  bat'Je 
for  what  he  deems  the  right.  Woe  be  unto  the  man  who 
enters  the  arena  with  him,  for  he  wields  a  two-edged  sword 
of  Damascus  steel.  Many  strong  men  have  been  slain  by 
him ;  yea,  many  mighty  men  have  fallen  before  him.  Had 
he  united  with  either  of  the  great  political  parties,  he  would 
have  been  chosen  as  a  champion,  for  he  is  brilliant  as  Choate, 
without  his  bedlamitish  idiosyncrasies ;  clear  as  Clay,  without 
his  accommodating,  compromising  disposition ;  learned  as 
Winthrop,  without  his  bookishness  and  drawing-room  man 
nerism  ;  genial  as  Cass,  without  his  dulness  ;  fiery  as  Benton, 
wkhout  his  unapproachable  self-sufficiency.  He  would  enter 
tain  a  promiscuous  audience  better  than  either  of  the  above- 
named  men.  He  is  not  so  logical  as  Webster;  not  so 
luminous  as  the  ever-consistent  Calhoun ;  not  so  learned  as 
the  second  Adams ;  not  so  thrilling  as  Kentucky's  favorite ; 
and  yet  he  is  a  more  instructive  and  a  more  interesting  speaker 
than  either  of  those  distinguished  men  ever  were,  even  in 
their  palmiest  days. 

Wendell  Phillips  is  universally  esteemed  and  beloved 
Even  those  who  hate  his  creed,  and  dread  his  power,  admire 
his  disinterested  kindness  and  irresistible  eloquence. 

I  regret  that  I  have  room  for  only  the  following  extracts, 
from  the  last  annual  report  of  the  Massachusetts  Anti-Slavery 
Society. 

"  Neither  would  I  be  understood  as  denying  that  we  us€ 
denunciation,  and  ridicule,  and  every  other  weapon  that  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  297 

human  mind  knows.  We  must  plead  guilty,  if  there  be  guilt 
in  not  knowing  how  to  separate  the  sin  from  the  sinner. 
With  all  the  fondness  for  abstractions  attributed  to  us,  we  are 
not  yet  capable  of  that.  We  are  fighting  a  momentous  battle 
at  desperate  odds — one  against  a  thousand.  Every  weapor 
that  ability  or  ignorance,  wit,  wealth,  prejudice  or  fashion  can 
command,  is  pointed  against  us.  The  guns  are  shotted  to 
their  lips.  The  arrows  are  poisoned.  Fighting  against  such 
an  array,  we  cannot  afford  to  confine  ourselves  to  any  one 
weapon.  The  cause  is  not  ours,  so  that  we  might,  rightfully, 
postpone  or  put  in  peril  the  victory  by  moderating  our 
demands,  stifling  our  convictions,  or  filing  down  our  rebukes 
to  gratify  the  sickly  taste  of  our  own,  or  to  spare  the  delicate 
nerves  of  our  neighbor.  Our  clients  are  three  millions  of 
slaves,  standing  dumb  suppliants  at  the  threshold  of  the  Chris 
tian  world.  They  have  no  voice  but  ours  to  utter  their 
complaints,  or  to  demand  justice.  The  press,  the  pulpit,  the 
wealth,  the  literature,  the  prejudices,  the  political  arrange 
ments,  the  present  self-interest  of  the  country,  are  all  against 
us.  God  has  given  us  no  weapon  but  the  truth,  faithfully 
uttered,  and  addressed  with  the  old  prophet's  directness,  to 
the  conscience  of  the  individual  sinner.  The  elements  which 
control  public  opinion  and  mould  the  masses  are  against  us. 
We  can  but  pick  off  here  and  there  a  man  from  the 
triumphant  majority.  We  have  facts  for  those  who  think — 
arguments  for  those  who  reason ;  but  he  who  cannot  be 
reasoned  out  of  his  prejudices,  must  be  laughed  out  of  them ; 
he  who  cannot  be  argued  out  of  his  selfishness,  must  bi 

13* 


298  CRAYON   SKETCHES,    AND 

shamed  out  of  it  by  the  mirror  of  "his  hateful  self  held  up 
relentlessly  before  his  eyes.  We  live  in  a  land  where  every 
man  makes  broad  his  phylactery,  inscribing  thereon,  'All 
men  are  created  equal' — 'God  hath  made  of  one  blood  all 
nations  of  men.'  It  seems  to  us  that  in  such  a  land  there 
must  be,  on  this  question  of  slavery,  sluggards  to  be  awakened 
as  well  as  doubters  to  be  convinced.  Many  more,  we  verily 
believe,  of  the  first,  than  of  the  last.  There  are  far  more  dead 
hearts  to  be  quickened,  than  confused  intellects  to  be  cleared 
up — more  dumb  dogs  to  be  made  to  speak,  than  doubting 
consciences  to  be  enlightened."  (Loud  cheers.) 

#  *  %  *  *  * 

"  All  this  I  am  not  only  ready  to  allow,  but  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  think  of  the  slave,  or  look  into  the  face  of  my 
fellow-man,  if  it  were  otherwise.  It  is  the  only  thing  that 
justifies  us  to  our  own  consciences,  and  makes  us  able  to  say 
we  have  done,  or  at  least  tried  to  do,  our  duty. 

"  So  far,  however  you  distrust  my  philosophy,  you  will  not 
doubt  my  statements.  That  we  have  denounced  and  rebuked 
with  unsparing  fidelity  will  not  be  denied.  Have  we  not  also 
addressed  ourselves  to  that  other  duty,  of  arguing  our  ques 
tion  thoroughly — of  using  due  discretion  and  fair  sagacity  in 
endeavoring  to  promote  our  cause  ?  Yes,  we  have.  Every 
statement  we  have  made  has  been  doubted.  Every  principle 
we  have  laid  down  has  been  denied  by  overwhelming  majori 
ties  against  us.  No  one  step  has  ever  been  gained  but  by  the 
most  laborious  research  and  the  most  exhausting  argument. 
And  no  question  has  ever,  since  Revolutionary  days,  been  so 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  299 

thoroughly  investigated  or  argued  here,  as  that  of  slavery 
Of  that  research  and  that  argument,  of  the  whole  of  it,  the  old- 
fashioned,  fanatical,  crazy,  Garrisonian  Anti-Slavery  move 
ment  has  been  the  author.  From  this  band  of  men  has  pro 
ceeded  every  important  argument  or  idea  that  has  been 
broached  on  the  Anti-Slavery  question  from  1830  to  the  pre 
sent  time.  (Cheers.)  I  am  well  aware  of  the  extent  of  the 
claim  I  make.  I  recognise,  as  fully  as  any  one  can,  the  abi 
lity  of  the  new  laborers — the  eloquence  and  genius  with  which 
they  have  recommended  this  cause  to  the  nation,  and  flashed 
conviction  home  on  the  conscience  of  the  community. 
*  *  *  *  *  * 

"  At  present,  our  leading  men,  strong  in  the  support  of  large 
majorities,  and  counting  safely  on  the  prejudices  of  the  com 
munity,  can  afford  to  despise  us.  They  know  they  can  over 
awe  or  cajole  the  present ;  their  only  fear  is  the  judgment  of 
the  future.  Strange  fear,  perhaps,  considering  how  short  and 
local  their  fame !  But  however  little,  it  is  their  all.  Our  only 
hold  upon  them  is  the  thought  of  that  bar  of  posterity,  before 
which  we  are  all  to  stand.  Thank  God,  there  is  the  elder 
brother  of  the  Saxon  race  across  the  water — there  is  the  army 
of  honest  men  to  come  !  Before  that  jury  we  summon  you. 
We  are  weak  here — out-talked,  out-voted.  You  load  our 
names  with  infamy,  and  shout  us  down.  But  our  words  bide 
their  time.  We  warn  the  living  that  we  have  terrible  memo 
ries,  and  that  their  sins  are  never  to  be  forgotten.  We  will 
gibbet  the  name  of  every  apostate  so  black  and  high  that  his 
children's  children  shall  blush  to  bear  it.  Yet  we  bear  no 


300  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

malice — cherish  no  resentment.  We  thank  God  that  the  love 
of  fame,  '  that  last  infirmity  of  noble  minds,'  is  shared  by  the 
ignoble.  In  our  necessity,  we  seize  this  weapon  in  the  slave's 
behalf,  and  teach  caution  to  the  living  by  meting  out  relent 
less  justice  to  the  dead.  How  strange  the  change  death  pro 
duces  in  the  way  a  man  is  talked  about  here !  While  leading" 
men  live,  they  avoid  as  much  as  possible  all  mention  of  slavery, 
from  fear  of  being  thought  abolitionists.  The  moment  they 
are  dead,  their  friends  rake  up  every  word  they  ever  contrived 
to  whisper  in  a  corner  for  liberty,  and  parade  it  before  the 
world;  growing  angry,  all  the  while,  with  us,  because  we 
insist  on  explaining  these  chance  expressions  by  the  tenor  of 
a  long  and  base  life.  While  drunk  with  the  temptations  of 
the  present  hour,  men  are  willing  to  bow  to  any  Moloch. 
When  their  friends  bury  them,  they  feel  what  bitter  mockery, 
fifty  years  hence,  any  epitaph  will  be,  if  it  cannot  record  of 
one  living  in  this  era,  some  service  rendered  to  the  slave ! 
These,  Mr.  Chairman,  are  the  reasons  why  we  take  care  that 
'the  memory  of  the  wicked  shall  rot."" 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  301 


j  ELIHU  BURRITT. 

"  Our  country  is  the  world ;  our  countrymen  are  all  mankind." — ANON. 

A  SHORT  time  ago  the  friends  of  Peace  called  a  meeting 
at  the  Park  street  Church,  for  the  purpose  of  appointing 
delegates  to  attend  the  World's  Peace  Convention,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Maine.  In  consequence  of  the  inclemency  of 
the  weather,  and  the  unbusinesslike  manner  in  which  he 
meeting  was  advertised,  there  were  but  few  persons  present ; 
but  the  distinguished  gentlemen  who  were  called  upon  to 
address  that  audience  might  have  consoled  themselves  with 
the  reflection  that  what  their  assembly  lacked  in  number  it 
made  up  in  talent,  learning,  influence,  and  moral  worth. 

The  chief  object  of  attraction,  at  this  meeting,  was  Elihu 
Burritt,  the  "  learned  blacksmith."  He  sat  on  the  first  seat 
opposite  the  pulpit,  with  his  back  toward  the  audience,  his 
head  resting  on  his  hand,  and  his  eyes  closed  most  of  the 
time,  during  the  delivery  of  the  speeches.  Thomas  Drew,  Jr., 
immortalized  as  Burritt's  "  blower  and  striker "  at  the  forge 
and  anvil  of  reform,  was  busy  with  pencil  and  paper  in  one  of 
the  side  pews.  The  hearers  waited  peaceably  but  impatiently 
for  Mr.  Burritt  to  take  the  rostrum,  and  when  it  was 
announced  that  he  would  speak,  every  countenance  becama 


302  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

radiant  with  joyful  anticipation.  Mr.  Burritt  arose  in  a  quiet; 
unpretending  manner,  and  modestly  responded  to  the 
jnvitation  to  speak.  He  stood  on  the  top  stair  of  the  pulpit, 
and  at  first  seemed  to  shrink  back  bashfully  from  the  gaze  of 
the  upturned  faces  before  him.  Although  he  is  no  coward,  I 
have  no  doubt  his  heart  beat  as  though  it  would  batter  a 
breach  through  its  tenement  when  he  first  unsealed  his  lips 
in  the  presence  of  that  assembly.  In  fact,  the  contour  of  his 
face,  and  the  tones  of  his  voice,  are  the  tell-tales  which  pub 
lished  his  lack  of  self-conceit. 

Mr.  Burritt  is  now  in  the  meridian  of  his  manhood,  but  his 
premature  baldness  is  his  apology  for  wearing  a  wig.  He  has 
a  towering  forehead,  but,  owing  to  the  large  development  of 
the  perceptive  faculties,  it  appears  to  retreat.  I  think  his  eyes 
are  blue,  when  they  do  not  blaze.  His  face  indicates 
perseverance  that  will  not  falter,  and  integrity  that  will  not 
disappoint.  He  speaks  slowly,  distinctly,  and  forcibly,  with 
out  ever  uttering  a  foolish  thing.  He  has  a  peculiarity  of 
tone  which  is  unreportable,  but  which  tells  with  thrilling 
effect  on  the  hearts  of  his  hearers,  when  he  enters  earnestly 
into  the  subject  he  discusses.  All  who  have  heard  him  must 
acknowledge  that  his  matter  is  as  full  of  thought  as  an  egg  is 
of  meat.  He  employs  facts  and  statistics  in  his  speeches  and 
editorials,  but  they  have  the  varied  beauty  of  the  rainbow, 
and  the  golden  glow  of  sunlight,  when  viewed  through  the 
prism  of  his  rich  imagination. 

The  following  extract  from  thfc  London  edition  of  the  little 
volume  entitled  "  Sparks  from  the  Anvil"  will  give  tho 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  303 

reader  an  idea  of  Mr.  Burritt's  style  of  writing.  In  ar 
article  on  temperance,  lie  alludes  to  the  history  of  a  distin 
guished'  statesman  who  had  been  snatched  as  a  brand  from 
the  liquid  burning: — "And  he  was  found,  with  all  the 
resuscitated  vigor  of  his  talents,  exhuming,  as  it  were,  his 
fellow  beings,  who,  like  him,  had  been  buried  before  the} 
were  dead.  Massachusetts  welcomed  him  back  to  her 
embrace  with  emotions  of  maternal  joy,  and  invited  the 
returning  pleiad  to  resume  his  rank  among  the  stars  of  her 
crown.  The  doors  of  her  halls  and  churches  were  thrown 
open  to  the  newly-returning  prodigal,  and  many  were  touched 
to  life  and  salvation,  at  the  burning  eloquence  which  fell  from 
his  lips.  Sister  states  heard  of  this  new  Luther  in  temper 
ance,  and  he  obeyed  their  call.  He  stood  up  in  their  cities 
like  Paul  in  the  midst  of  Mars  Hill,  and,  with  an  eloquence 
approaching  inspiration,  set  forth  the  strange  doctrine  of 
total  abstinence.  That  man,  unfortunately,  was  led  astray 
by  fiends  in  human  form,  but  a  band  of  Washingtonian& 
persuaded  him  to  sign  the  pledge  once  more,  and  this  time  it 
was  an  unviolated  policy  of  insurance  against  the  fires  of 
destruction."  He  concluded  that  graphic  sketch  in  the  follow 
ing  words : — "  That  man  is  again  a  giant,  and  he  is  abroad ; 
look  out  for  him !  Like  Samson,  he  is  feeling  for  the  pillars 
of  the  temple  of  Bacchus,  and  he  will  ere  long  revenge  the 
loss  of  his  locks  by  a  mighty  overthrow  of  that  doomed 
edifice." 

It  affords  the  writer  no  small  degree  of  pleasure  to  lift  up 
the  curtain  which  hangs  between  the  past  and  the  present, 


304  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

and  look  back  to  the  time  when  the  now  eminent  champion 
of  peace  first  put  on  his  paper  cap  and  leather  apron,  and 
made  the  forge  blaze  and  the  hammer  ring.  He  did  not 
dream,  then,  that  he  one  day  would  "beat  swords  into 
ploughshares,  and  spears  into  pruning-hooks."  His  friends 
did  not  at  that  time  give  him  credit  for  any  striking  mani 
festations  of  genius.  To  use  his  own  words,  he  was  a 
"  plodding,  patient,  persevering "  lad,  gathering  by  "  the 
process  of  accretion,  which  builds  the  ant-heap,  particle  by 
particle,  thought  by  thought,  fact  by  fact."  In  this  way  he 
worked  and  studied,  night  by  night,  for  years,  with  "  blistered 
hands  and  brightening  hope,"  at  lessons  which  have  made 
him  shine  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  firmament  of 
fame. 

In  the  summer  of  1838,  Governor  Everett,  of  Massachu 
setts,  in  an  address  to  an  association  of  mechanics  in  Boston, 
took  occasion  to  mention  that  a  blacksmith  of  that  State  had, 
by  his  unaided  industry,  made  himself  acquainted  with  fifty 
languages!  Prior  to  this  announcement,  Mr.  Burritt  had 
lived  in  obscurity,  and  the  fame  of  his  acquirements  did  not 
extend  beyond  the  smoke  of  his  work-shop.  When  Mr. 
Nelson  called  on  Mr.  B.  at  Worcester,  he  found  him  at  his 
anvil.  When  told  what  the  Governor  had  reported  respecting 
him,  he  modestly  replied  that  the  Governor  had  done  him 
more  than  justice.  It  was  true,  he  said,  that  he  could  read 
about  fifty  languages,  but  he  had  not  studied  them  all 
critically.  Yankee  curiosity  had  induced  him  to  look  at  the 
Latin  Grammar ;  he  became  interested  in  it,  and  persevered, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  305 

and,  filially,  acquired  a  thorough  knowledge  of  that  language, 
He  then  studied  the  Greek  with  equal  care.  An  acquaintance 
with  these  languages  had  enabled  him  to  read,  with  equal 
facility,  the  Italian,  the  French,  the  Spanish,  and  the  Portu 
guese.  The  Russian,  to  which  he  was  then  devoting  his  odd 
moments,  he  said,  was  the  most  difficult  of  any  he  had 
undertaken.  He  went  to  Worcester  to  secure  the  advantages 
of  an  antiquarian  library,  to  which  the  trustees  allowed  him 
free  access.  He  spent  eight  hours  at  the  forge,  eight  hours 
in  the  library,  and  the  remaining  eight  hours  of  each  day  in 
recreation  and  rest.  After  he  had  studied  Hebrew,  and  made 
himself  acquainted  with  its  cognate  languages — the  Syriac, 
Chaldaic,  Arabic,  Samaritan,  Ethiopic,  <fec.,  he  turned  his 
attention  to  the  languages  of  Europe,  and  studied  French, 
Spanish,  Italian,  and  German,  under  native  teachers.  He 
then  pursued  the  Portuguese,  Flemish,  Danish,  Swedish, 
Norwegian,  Icelandic,  Welsh,  Gaelic,  Celtic,  &c. 

It  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  a  man  who  has  devoted 
so  much  of  his  time  to  the  acquisition  of  languages,  that 
he  is  a  living  polyglot,  should  have  such  mighty  mathe 
matical  powers.  Figures  tumble  from  his  pen  like  seeds  from 
a  sack  when  the  string  is  untwined  from  its  throat.  There 
are  but  few  men  of  past  or  present  times,  that  can  excel  him 
in  description.  Take  the  following  graphic  sketch  of  the 
iron  horse,  as  a  specimen  of  his  skill  in  that  department  of 
literature : — 

"  I  love  to  see  one  of  these  creatures,  with  sinews  of  brass 
and  muscles  of  iron,  strut  forth  from  his  smoky  stable,  and, 


306  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

saluting  the  long  train  of  cars  with  a  dozen  sonorous  puffs 
from  his  iron  nostrils,  fall  back  gently  into  his  harness. 
There  he  stands,  champing  and  foaming  upon  the  iron  track, 
his  great  heart  a  furnace  of  glowing  coals,  his  lymphatic 
blood  is  boiling  in  his  veins,  the  strength  of  a  thousand  horses 
is  nerving  his  sinews — he  pants  to  be  gone.  He  would 
*  snake '  St.  Peter's  across  the  desert  of  Sahara,  if  he  could 
be  fairly  hitched  to  it;  but  there  is  a  little,  sober-eyed, 
tobacco-chewing  man  in  the  saddle,  who  holds  him  in  with 
one  finger,  and  can  take  away  his  breath  in  a  moment,  should 
he  grow  restive  or  vicious.  I  am  always  deeply  interested  in 
this  man,  for,  begrimed  as  he  may  be  with  coal,  diluted  in 
oil  and  steam,  I  regard  him  as  the  genius  of  the  whole 
machinery,  as  the  physical  mind  of^that  huge  steam-horse." 

Mr.  Burritt  believes  that  God  has  made  of  one  blood  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  he  aims  to  unite  them  by  the 
fraternal  chain  of  brotherhood.  He  looks  upon  war  as  an 
inexcusable  evil,  and  labors  manfully  for  its  extirpation.  He 
would  dismantle  the  arsenal,  disband  the  army,  spike  the 
cannon,  and  reforge  the  cutlass ;  he  would  take  our  ships  of 
war  and  "  lade  them  down  to  the  water's  edge  with  food  and 
covering  for  human  beings."  "  The  ballast  should  be  round 
clams,  or  the  real  quahaugs,  heavy  as  cast  iron,  and  capital 
for  roasting.  Then  he  would  build  along  up,  filling  every 
square  inch  with  well-cured  provisions.  He  would  have  a 
hogshead  of  bacon  mounted  into  every  port-hole,  each  of 
which  should  discharge  fifty  hams  a  minute,  when  the  ship 
was  brought  into  action  ;  and  the  state-rooms  should  be  filled 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  301 

with  well-made  garments,  and  the  taut  cordage  and  tha 
long  tapering  spars  should  be  festooned  with  boys'  jackets 
and  trous6rs.  Then,  when  there  should  be  no  more  room  for 
another  cod-fish  or  herring,  or  sprig  of  catnip,  he  would  run 
up  the  white  flag  of  peace.  He  would  throw  as  many  hams 
into  the  city  in  twenty-four  hours  as  there  were  bomb-shells 
and  cannon  balls  thrown  into  Keil  by  the  besieging  armies ; 
he  would  barricade  the  low,  narrow  streets  with  loaves  of 
bread ;  would  throw  up  a  breast-work,  clear  around  the 
market-place,  of  barrels  of  flour,  pork  and  beef,  and  in  the 
middle  raise  a  stack  of  salmon  and  cod-fish  as  large  as  a 
small  Methodist  meeting-house,  with  a  steeple  to  it,  and  a  bell 
in  the  steeple,  and  the  bell  should  ring  to  all  the  city  bells, 
and  the  city  bells  should  ring  to  all  the  people  to  come  to 
market  and  buy  provisions,  without  money  and  without  price. 
And  white  flags  should  everywhere  wave  in  the  breeze — on 
the  vanes  of  steeples,  on  mast-heads,  on  flag-staffs  along  the 
embattled  walls,  on  the  ends  of  willow  sticks,  borne  by  the 
romping,  laughing,  trooping  children.  All  the  blood-colored 
drapery  of  war  should  bow  and  blush  before  the  stainless 
standard  of  peace,  and  generations  of  Anglo-Saxons  should 
remember,  with  mutual  felicitations,  the  conquest  of  the  white 
flag,  or  the  storming  of  Quebec." 

Mr.  Burritt  has  made  his  mark  upon  this  age — a  mark 
which  time  will  not  erase.  His  society  is  courted  by  the 
great  men  of  Europe  and  America.  He  quietly  suggests  a 
world's  convention,  and  Senators,  members  of  Parliament, 
Baronets,  and  crowned  heads,  hearken  to  his  counsels.  He  is 


308  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

the  same  great  and  good  man,  whether  in  the  smithy,  talking 
with  the  hard-handed  nailers,  or  in  the  magnificent  forum, 
pleading  for  peace,  in  presence  of  the  dignitaries  of  the  land. 
He  strives  to  smite  off  the  clanking  manacles  from  the  uplifted 
hands  of  the  bleeding  slave,  and  to  strike  down  the  monster 
that  wades  in  blood,  and  to  build  up  the  temple  of  universal 
peace,  and  to  weld  the  world  in  an  unbroken  band  of  eternal 
brotherhood.  He  sees  a  spirit  of  selfishness  abroad  that  would 
rob  earth  of  its  flowers  and  heaven  of  its  lights,  disinherit  the 
angels,  uncrown  the  Almighty,  and  sit  upon  the  throne  of  the 
universe.  So  he  has  unfurled  the  white  banner,  and  is  now 
leading  the  crusaders  of  a  good  cause,  to  a  battle  where  no 
blood  will  be  shed,  but  where  that  evil,  selfish  spirit  will  he 
subdued,  and  peace  shall  triumph  ! 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS  309 


WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 

NATURE  has  not  a  more  appreciating  admirei  and  devou. 
worshipper  than  William  Cullen  Bryant.  The  beautiful  trees, 
when  covered  with  green  foliage,  or  crowned  with  the  golden 
pomp  of  Autumn,  or  glassed  in  the  ice  of  winter,  as  they 
stand  with  root  clasped  in  root,  and  branch  embracing 
branch,  like  a  band  of  brothers,  have  been  his  instructors. 
The  sweet  sisterhood  of  flowers,  gleaming  like  drops  of  sky 
and  sunbeam,  and  rainbow,  are  the  pets  of  his  passionate 
love.  The  warbling  birds,  pouring  forth  their  roundelays, 
or  building  their  soft,  round  nests,  or  sitting  on  their  spot 
ted  eggs,  or  cutting  the  air  with  swift-moving  pinions,  are 
his  favorites.  So  are  the  lakes,  shining  like  broaches  set 
in  emerald  on  the  bosom  of  the  earth — so  are  the  streams 
sweeping  like  silver  sickles  through  the  green  fields  and 
forests. 

The  rock  is  an  altar  on  which  he  would  offer  the  sacrifice 
of  a  song — each  stanza  burning  with  holy  fire,  when,  on  the 
mountain  sod  he  stands,  with  his  feet  on  the  earth  and  his 
heart  in  Heaven — the  mountain  is  a  footstool  which  touches 
the  throne  of  God,  and  he  kneels  there.  He  looks  upon  the 
sea  with  sublime  emotions,  and  the  spirit  which  moves  upon 
the  waters  stirs  the  great  deep  of  his  soul. 


310  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

"  He  can  impart  substance  to  shadows,  and  spirit  to  storms 
— put  an  Oread  on  every  hill,  and  plunge  a  Naiad  into  every 
gushing  spring  " — 

"  Ah  !  Bard,  tremendous  in  sublimity, 
Could  I  behold  thee  in  thy  loftier  mood, 
Wandering  alone  with  finely  frenzied  eye, 
Beneath  some  vast,  old,  tempest-swinging  wood, 
Awhile  with  mute  awe  gazing  I  would  brood, 
Then  weep  aloud  in  a  wild  ecstasy." 

Mr.  Bryant  is  one  of  the  most  polished  poets  of  the  age 
No  one  in  America  approximates  more  closely  to  perfection 
of  finish  than  he.  He  is  generally  meditative,  always  in 
earnest,  often  sad.  He  has  never  been  "guilty  of  literary 
larceny  ;  has  never  violated  the  exact  rules  of  exquisite  taste  : 
has  never  published  a  mediocre  poem  from  his  own  pen,  and 
although  for  many  years  connected  with  the  daily  press,  he  has 
never  wantonly  assailed  a  brother  bard  or  any  one  else,  but 
has  invariably  exhibited  that  Christian  courtesy  for  which  ho 
is  preeminently  distinguished.  As  for  his  style,  it  is  so 
accurate,  so  elegant,  so  in  accordance  with  the  "decora  of 
composition"  he  has  been  regarded  by  some,  as  cold  and 
conservative,  and  without  genius — but  such  is  not  the  case. 
It  is  true  he  has  not  the  versatility  of  Willis,  nor  the  fire  of 
Whittier,  nor  the  humor  of  Lowell,  nor  the  eloquent  radi 
calism  of  Pierpont ;  but  he  is  not  a  whit  behind  them  in  his 
appreciation  of  nature,  and  far  ahead  of  them  in  artistic  skill, 
and  unsurpassed  by  any  American  writer  in  descriptive 
power.  He  is  not  only  a  scholarly  man  of  superb  talents, 


OFF-HAND   TAKINGS.  311 

but  a  man  of  remarkable  genius,  whose  writings  will  be  a> 
fresh  as  nature,  centuries  hence,  when  the  writings  of  many 
of  his  cotemporaries,  overestimated  now,  will  be  confined  to 
the  closet  of  the  antiquarian.  He  was  a  precocious  child  ; 
when  but  thirteen  years  of  age  he  wrote  a  poem,  from  which 
T  copy  the  following  lines : — 

"  Oh,  might  some  patriot  rise,  the  gloom  dispel, 
Chase  Error's  mist,  and  break  the  magic  spell! 
But  vain  the  wish,  for  hark  the  murmuring  meed 
Of  hoarse  applause  from  yonder  shed  proceed. 
Enter  and  view  the  thronging  concourse  there. 
Intent  with  gaping  mouth  and  stupid  stare, 
While  in  their  midst  their  supple  leader  stands, 
Harangues  aloud  and  flourishes  his  hands." 

The  "Waterfowl"  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  perfect 
poems  in  the  language. 

"  Whither,  midst  falling  dew, 
While  glow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of  day, 
Far,  through  their  rosy  depths,  dost  thou  pursue 
Thy  solitary  way  ? 

"  Vainly  the  fowler's  eye, 

Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  thee  wrong, 
As,  darkly  painted  on  the  crimson  sky, 
Thy  figure  floats  along. 

"  Seekest  thou  the  plashy  brink 
Of  weedy  lake,  or  marge  of  river  wide  ; 
Or,  where  the  rocking  billows  rise  and  sink, 
On  the  chafed  ocean  side  ? 


312  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    J.ND 

"  There  is  a  power  whose  care 
Teaches  thy  way  along  that  pathless  coast, 
The  desert  and  illimitable  air, — 
Lone,  wandering,  but  not  lost. 

"  All  day  thy  wings  have  fann'd, 
At  that  far  height,  the  cold,  thin  atmosphere, 
Yet  stoop  not,  weary,  to  the  welcome  land, 
Though  the  dark  night  is  near. 

"And  soon  that  toil  shall  end; 
Soon  shalt  thou  find  a  summer  home  and  rest, 
And  scream  among  thy  fellows  ;  reeds  shall  bend, 
Soon,  o'er  thy  sheltered  nest. 

"  Thou'rt  gone,  the  abyss  of  heaven 
Hath  swallowed  up  thy  form,  yet,  on  my  heart 
Deeply  hath  sunk  the  lesson  thou  hast  given, 
And  shall  not  soon  depart. 

"  He,  who,  from  zone  to  zone, 
Guides  through  the  boundless  sky  thy  certain  flight. 
In  the  long  way  that  I  must  tread  alone, 
Will  lead  my  steps  aright." 

Edgar  A.  Poe,  says  that  the  poem  entitled  "  Oh,  Fairest  of 
the  Rural  Maids,"  will  strike  every  poet  as  the  truest  poem 
written  by  Bryant.  It  is  richly  ideal. 

Here  are  a  few  passages  which  prove  their  author  a  man 
of  lofty  genius,  and  not  a  mere  man  of  talent  and  erudition. 

"  Breezes  of  the  south, 
That  toss  the  golden  and  the  flame-like  flowers." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  313 

**  And  pass  the  prairie  hawk,  that,  poised  on  high. 
Flaps  his  broad  wings,  yet  moves  not." 

"  The  great  heavens 

Seem  to  stoop  down  upon  the  scene  in  love, 
'Till  twilight  blushed,  and  lovers  walked  and  wooed 
In  a  forgotten  language,  and  old  tunes 
From  instruments  of  unremembered  form, 
Gave  the  soft  winds  a  voice." 

{!  The  mountains  that  infold, 
in  their  wild  sweep,  the  colored  landscape  round, 
Seem  groups  of  giant  kings  in  purple  and  gold, 

That  guard  the  enchanted  ground." 

"  So  live,  that,  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan,  that  moves 
To  that  mysterious  realm,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death, 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry  slave  at  night, 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon,  but  sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave — 
Like  one,  that  draws  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  in  pleasant  dreams." 

Rumor  says,  that  the  magnificent  lines,  last  quoted,  were 
never  read  by  Thomas  Campbell,  the  author  of  the  "Pleasures 
of  Hope,"  without  causing  him  to  shed  tears. 

Mr.  Bryant  is  a  native  of  Cummington,  Massachusetts. 
His  father  was  an  eminent  physician,  distinguished  for  his 
learning,  and  taste,  and  scientific  attainments.  When  our 
author  was  sixteen  years  of  age,  he  entered  Williams'  college, 
where  he  was  eminent  for  his  attainments.  He  commenced 

the  study  of  law  in  1812 ;  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar  three 

14 


314  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

years  afterwards,  and  forthwith  commenced  practice  ic  ci-i 
town  of  Great  Barrington.  He  was  but  little  more  than  » ,gh- 
teen  years  of  age  when  he  wrote  "  ThanStopsis,"  which  was 
first  published  in  the  North  American  Review.  In  1821,  he 
delivered  "  The  Ages  "  before  a  literary  society  in  Harvard. 
After  ten  years  practice  at  the  law,  he  removed  to  New  York, 
and  devoted  himself  to  literary  pursuits  in  the  society  of  such 
men  as  Verplanck,  Sands,  Legget,  &c.  In  1826,  he  assumed 
the  chief  management  of  the  "  Evening  Post ;"  a  position  he 
still  occupies  with  honor  to  himself,  and  credit  to  his  craft. 

The  Post  is  one  of  the  most  readable  and  influential  jour 
nals  on  this  continent.  Of  course,  no  true  poet  can  counte 
nance  oppression;  and  when  the  question  of  slavery  was 
first  agitated  by  leading  men,  in  and  out  of  his  party,  he 
wielded  his  pen  in  defence  of  the  weak  and  down-trodden. 
He  has  been  a  vigorous  opposer  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill ; 
and  like  a  brave,  honest  man,  fearlessly  trips  up  the  infamous 
intriguers,  who  make  the  auction  block  their  platform.  Mr. 
Bryant  is  a  reformer,  and  is  classed  among  the  "Softs"  of 
the  democratic  party — the  term,  however,  applies  more  to  the 
hearts  than  it  does  to  the  heads  of  the  humane  leaders  in 
the  ranks  to  which  he  belongs. 

Mr.  Bryant  is  upwards  of  fifty  years  of  age,  about  five 
feet  nine  inches  in  height,  with  rather  athletic  frame  ;  he  has 
a  large,  thin,  sallow  face,  lit  up  with  a  pair  of  sharp,  grey 
eyes,  which  twinkle  like  stars,  under  heavy  eye-brows — his 
countenance  indicates  the  reserved  dignity  for  which  he  ia 
noted ;  his  forehead  is  broad,  head  quite  bald,  hair  fine, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  315 

soft,  and  grey,  with  whiskers  to  match  ;  he  dresses  with  neat 
ness  and  simplicity.  Notwithstanding  the  sternness  of  hia 
smile,  and  the  sedateness  of  his  physiognomy,  he  is  genial  as 
the  sunshine,  and  his  heart  overflows  with  generosity.  If 
General  Pierce  was  king,  and  not  President,  he  could  not  do 
a  wiser  thing  than  to  make  the  greatest  poet  of  his  party 
Poet  Laureate.  As  Wordsworth  linked  his  name  with  the 
waters  of  Windermere,  and  the  vale  of  Keswick,  and  the 
towering  Helvellyn  ;  so  Bryant's  name  is  indissolubly  associ 
ated  with  the  lakes,  and  prairies,  and  mountains  of  America. 


316  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


DANIEL  S.  DICKINSON 

THE  political  nomenclature  of  New  York  is  a  science  not 
taught  in  the  schools.  A  thorough  knowledge  of  the  various 
names  assumed  by  some  and  assigned  to  others,  requires  an 
out-door  education — a  sidewalk  and  street-corner  tuition,  a 
convention  and  mass-meeting  training.  Why,  the  names  given 
to  the  "Federalists,"  and  "Republicans,"  the  " Clintonians," 
and  the  "  Bucktails,"  have  become  obsolete,  and  the  terms 
"Whig"  and  "Democrat"  are  regarded  as  altogether  too 
antiquated  for  modern  use;  so  we  have  the  "Silver  Greys" 
and  the  "Hunkers,"  the  "Conscience  Whigs"  and  the  "Cot 
ton  Whigs" — the  "Free  Democrats,"  which  of  course  implies 
there  are  Democrats  that  are  not  free,  such  for  instance  as  are 
known  by  the  euphonious  title  of  "Hunkers" — then  we  have 
the  Barnburners,  known  also  by  the  names  of  "Softs,"  "Putty- 
heads,"  "the  Unterrified,"  and  their  bitterest  opponents,  the 
"Hards,"  "the  Terrified,"  &c. 

Daniel  S.  Dickinson  is  an  "Old  Hunker,"  dyed  in  the  wool, 
although  not  a  "woolly  head."  He  is  one  of  the  hardest  of 
the  hards,  one  of  the  most  terrible  of  the  terrified — a  Northern 
man  with  Southern  principles — a  Virginian  born  by  mistake 
in  Connecticut,  and  the  burden  of  his  song,  is  "  Oh,  carry  ma 
back  to  old  Virginia,  to  old  Virginia  shore."  If  he  ever  prayed 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  31} 

he  prayed  (to  whom  ?)  for  the  passage  of  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Law.  If  he  ever  labored  harder  at  one  time  than  another,  it 
was  when  his  voice  and  vote  could  help  to  place  the  compro- 
mise  measures — so  called — upon  our  statute  books.  No  man 
crawled  longer  and  crouched  lower  than  he  did,  to  serve  the 
south  at  the  expense  of  the  north.  He  forgot  he  had  constitu 
ents  to  serve,  and  devoted  himself  exclusively  and  unsparingly 
to  the  slave  power — toiling  incessantly  for  those  who  despised 
his  principles  while  they  praised  his  "patriotism."  The  chival 
rous  southerner,  whose  instincts  and  education  and  interests 
wedded  him  to  the  "peculiar  institution"  is  guilty  enough  in 
the  face  of  humanity  and  heaven,  but  his  guilt  whitens  into 
innocence  when  contrasted  with  the  contemptible  meanness 
which  impels  a  native  of  New  England  to  crouch  and  cringe 
in  the  most  "terrified"  manner  in  the  presence  of  his  masters. 
Pray  what  will  be  the  reward  of  his  trimming  and  treachery? 
Will  he  step  from  the  neck  of  the  slave  to  a  seat  in. the 
cabinet  ?  Can  he  climb  into  the  presidential  chair  on  the  bleed 
ing  back  of  a  negro  ?  Will  the  nation  clap  its  hands  to  see  him 
chase  a  fugitive  ?  Will  his  nomination  terminate  in  anything 
but  defeat?  He  is,  undoubtedly,  a  man  of  extraordinary  talent, 
without,  however  a  single  spark  of  genius.  He  is  a  debater  of 
uncommon  ability — a  well  read  statesman,  an  industrious  wor 
ker,  a  skilful  tactitian,  a  shrewd  sharp  politician,  up  to  all  the  arts 
and  tricks  of  wool  and  wire  pulling  and  log-rolling — and  had  he 
kept  pace  with  the  progress  of  the  progressives  in  his  party,  he 
would  have  been  a  man  the  Democrats  would  have  delighted  to 
honor.  In  private  life,  I  have  the  impression  he  is  a  most  esti- 


318  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

mable  man,  a  faithful  husband,  an  affectionate  parent,  a  dutiful 
son,  a  law-abiding  citizen,  an  obliging  neighbor,  and  I  cannot 
force  myself  to  believe  that  he  would  not  shelter  a  slave  over 
night,  under  his  hospitable  roof — that  he  would  not  shield  him 
from  the  sharp  teeth  of  devouring  hounds — that  he  would  not 
give  him  a  crust  of  bread  and  a  cup  of  water,  and  speed  him  on 
his  way,  even  though  he  travelled  on  the  underground  railroad. 
Yes,  his  heart  is  better  than  his  avowed  sentiments,  for  surely 
he  is  too  dignified  to  steal  babies,  and  whip  women,  and  sepa 
rate  families.  Senator  Dickinson  is  a  native  of  Goshen,  Con 
necticut,  and  was  born  September  llth,  1800.  When  he  was 
16  years  of  age,  he  accompanied  his  father  to  the  State  of  New 
York,  where  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  mechanic,  and  acquired  a 
knowledge  of  some  useful  branch  of  industry.  What  trade  he 
learned,  I  have  not  the  power  to  say.  Preferring  to  work  with 
his  head,  he  relinquished  the  work  of  his  hands,  and  studied 
law,  and  in  1823  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar  of  the  New  York 
Supreme  Court.  He  became  distinguished  in  his  profession, 
and  pursued  it  with  triumphant  success,  until  he  was  elected 
to  the  State  Senate  in  1836.  While  Lieutenant-Governor  and 
President  of  the  Senate,  he  was  the  oracle  of  his  party.  In 
1844,  he  was  appointed  to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  and 
continued  a  member  of  that  body  until  March  4th,  1851.  So 
much  for  Senator  Dickinson.  His  political  career  is  nearly 
ended — his  party  winding-sheet  already  woven.  His  political 
grave  is  dug  and  his  political  damnation  sure,  and  he  must 
bear  the  blame  on  his  shoulders.  His  conscience,  his  reason., 
his  friends,  and  even  his  party  warned  him  of  the  danger  thai 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  3J9 

lurked  like  a  lion  in  liis  path,  but,  he  heeded  not  the  counsel 
of  the  wise,  and  laughed  at  the  experience  of  sages,  now  he  is 
"terrified',"  and  has  become  one  of  the  hardest  of  the  hards. 
His  speeches  are  rather  dry,  but  well  put  together.  They  are 
not  adorned  with  many  gems  of  poetry  and  eloquence,  but  are 
practical,  sensible,  logical,  and  philosophical  speeches.  If  he 
reforms,  I  shall  be  glad  to  tear  this  sketch  from  my  book  and 
substitute  the  good  things  it  would  afford  me  so  much  pleasure 
to  say  respecting  him. 

"  Scripture  Dick,"  as  he  is  sometimes  called,  is  so  exhilara 
ted  because  the  Adamantine  Democrats  have  just  now  an 
opportunity  to  show  undisguisedly  their  heart-hatred  of  Van 
Buren  and  Dix  and  Marcy,  and  men  of  that  kidney,  he  has 
become  quite  facetious.  His  most  intimate  friends  will  be  aston 
ished  at  the  mother  wit  and  cleverness  he  has  recently  exhibited 
on  the  platform  at  New  York  and  Buffalo.  When  the  staging 
fell  at  the  former  place  at  the  mass  meeting  in  the  Park,  he 
was  hard  enough  to  pass  through  the  ordeal  uninjured.  He 
deserves  some  credit  for  his  courage  and  consistency,  for  he  is 
not  afraid  to  avow  his  sentiments,  and  he  keeps  his  party 
pledges  inviolate.  He  does  not  attempt  to  bridge  over  the 
great  gulf  between  the  Buffalo  and  the  Baltimore  platforms 
with  resolutions  in  favor  of  compromise  measures. 

I  am  indebted  to  the  "New  York  Tribune"  for  the  following 
extracts  from  recent  speeches.  The  editor  remarks: — 

"  '  Scripture  Dick,'  whom  we  used  to  consider  the  sorriest  of 
•low  jokers,  has  really  brightened  up,  and  is  'redolent'  of  good 


320  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

things — witness  the  following  sparkles  from  his  speech  last 
Friday  evening  at  Buffalo : — 

*  *  *  "The  Democratic  party  now  stands  where  it  has 
ever  stood.  Let  those  who  planted  themselves  upon  the  oppo 
site  [Buffalo]  platform,  remain  there  until  they  can  come  back 
truly  repentant.  When  the  time  arrives,  the  Democratic  party 
will  stand  with  open  arms  to  receive  the  prodigals.  But  they 
must  be  content  to  serve  in  the  ranks,  and  to  prove  the  sin 
cerity  of  their  repentance.  It  is  not  usually  considered  fair  or 
consistent  to  put  one  in  command  as  a  captain,  as  soon  as  he 
returns  from  a  party  of  desertion ;  and  the  masses  may  require 
that  these  men  should  at  least  get  the  smell  of  treachery  off 
their  garments,  before  they  adopt  them  as  leaders.  The  boat 
men  on  the  Susquehanna  River  have  a  rule  that  no  person 
shall  be  allowed  to  steer  until  he  has  rowed  for  five  years ;  and 
this  is  a  healthy  rule,  if  applied  to  those  politicians  who  have  so 
recently  been  in  open  hostility  to  the  party  they  pretend  now 
to  rejoin.  Their  conversion  is  sudden  enough  to  excite  at  least 
a  suspicion  of  its  honesty,  and  should  be  tested  before  it  is 
trusted.  A  veteran  fisherman  was  once  famous  for  catching 
eels,  but  he  would  sometimes  catch  something  else.  His 
experience  taught  him  that  all  were  not  eels  that  came  to  the 
net.  He  would  therefore  turn  them  out  upon  the  shore,  and  all 
that  ran  for  the  water  he  took  for  eels,  while  all  that  ran  for  a 
stone-heap  he  killed  for  snakes.  I  am  not  sure  but  this  is  a 
good  rule  to  apply  at  the  present  time  to  ascertain  who  are 
true  and  who  are  bogus  Democrats." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  321 

Here  is  another  good  thing  from  Daniel,  better  than  wa 
often  find  so  compactly  and  caustically  presented  in  a  stump 
speech : 

'  But  these  men  [the  Short-Boys],  I  regret  to  say  it,  were 
aot  the  only  ones  present  at  that  [Syracuse]  Convention,  who 
should  not  have  been  there.  The  Governor  of  the  State — I 
allude  to  it  with  sorrow — the  Governor  of  the  State  of  New 
York  was  there.  Perhaps  he  was  there  merely  to  amuse  him 
self  by  making  auger-holes  with  a  gimlet — but  there  he  was. 
It  was  the  first  time  that  ever  a  Governor  of  the  State  of  New 
York  was  found  in  a  Convention,  lobbying  and  bargaining 
with  its  members,  and  I  believe  it  will  be  the  last.  I  know, 
indeed,  that  it  will  be  the  last  time  that  Governor  will  be  guilty 
of  such  an  impropriety,  and  I  do  not  think  we  could  readily 
find  another  who  would  emulate  his  example.  Other  State 
officers  were  there  also.  The  Controller  and  some  others  went 
up  from  the  Capitol,  probably  to  prevent  their  own  nomination. 
I  am  very  happy  to  say  they  were  entirely  successful.  But,  in 
spite  of  all  these  appliances,  Union  and  Harmony  were,  after 
all,  defeated.  It  is  a  singular  fact,  but  so  it  is.  The  members 
of  the  Convention  had  the  Governor  of  the  State  tempting 
them  on  with  the  spoils  in  front,  and  the  Short-Boys  of  New 
York  pricking  them  up  with  bowie-knives  in  the  rear,  and  yet 
they  failed  to  harmonize.  They  had  everything  under  heaven 
to  induce  united  action ;  and  yet,  behold  the  result !" 

Just  one  more  extract  from  this  clever  speech.     It  is  ai 
candid  as  it  is  characteristic : 

"  We  have  got  rid  of  the  mischievous  traitors,  let  us  keep 


322  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

clear  of  them.  It  is  true,  they  say,  we  are  all  on  one  platform, 
but  when  did  we  get  there  ?  No  longer  ago  than  last  winter 
when  just  such  resolutions  as  the  platform  embodies  were  intro 
duced  into  the  Assembly ;  if  a  cholera  patient  or  a  hand  gre« 
nade  had  been  placed  in  their  midst,  there  could  not  have 
been  a  more  effectual  scattering  of  these  very  men.  The  very 
speaker  had  to  fly  the  house  like  a  dog  with  a  tin  kettle  fas 
tened  behind  him.  It  was  only  last  winter  that  one  of  their 
body  got  up  and  denounced  this  very  platform,  as  embraced 
in  the  President's  Inaugural,  as  damnable.  Then,  gentlemen, 
is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  considering  the  formidable  head  they 
presented  then,  and  the  tapering  tail  they  present  now,  if  you 
and  I,  and  all  of  us  refuse  to  go  near  them  ?  No ;  I  prefer 
imitating  the  action  of  the  man,  who,  while  attending  a  race, 
was  kicked  by  a  woolly  horse  which  had  been  hitched  to  a 
post  too  near  the  path.  He  was  much  hurt,  and  paced  the 
walk  in  fury,  crying  out,  '  show  me  the  man  that  hitched  the 
woolly  horse  to  the  post.'  When  the  bystanders  sympathized 
with  him,  *  Show  me  the  man  that  hitched  the  woolly  horse 
tharj  was  all  his  reply.  Presently  the  owner  of  the  horse,  a 
.stout-built  man,  approached.  '  My  friend,'  he  began,  *  I  am 
sorry.'  '  I  want  none  of  your  sorrow,  sir,'  replied  the  man  ; 
'show  me  the  man  that  hitched  the  woolly  horse  thar!1 
1  Well,'  said  the  owner,  '  if  you  want  to  know  so  badly,  /  did ; 
and  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?'  '  Well,'  said  thu 
injured  individual,  '  I  swear  I'll  never  go  near  that  woolly 
horse  again  !'  And,  my  friends,  I'll  never  go  near  that  woolly 
horse  again.  I  have  no  faith  in  it.  It  will  kick  at  any 
moment." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  323 


GENERAL  WINFIELD  SCOTT. 

GENERAL  WINFIELD  SCOTT  is  a  giant  in  stature,  six  feet  six 
in  his  stockings,  and  of  perfect  proportions.  In  regimentals, 
and  on  horseback,  he  is  the  most  magnificent  soldier  in  Ame 
rica.  Nicholas  of  Russia,  is  the  only  man  in  Europe  known 
to  fame  who  at  all  approximates  to  such  an  unusual  develop 
ment  of  form.  In  any  age,  in  any  country,  he  would  have 
been  a  chosen  chieftain.  The  Red  men  of  the  forest  would 
have  been  proud  of  such  a  chief.  The  Romans  would  have 
followed  him  during  a  lifetime  and  deified  him  after  death. 
No  wonder  Uncle  Sam  chose  his  tall,  broad-shouldered  nephew 
to  be  his  prize-fighter.  His  very  presence  scared  the  Mexicans 
as  Goliath  of  Gath  frightened  the  Hebrews.  Should  there  be 
a  World's  Fair  for  the  display  of  physically  great  men  of  per 
fect  mould,  the  United  States  would  win  the  first  premium, 
and  Scott  would  wear  the  medal.  He  is  a  soldier — a  scientific 
soldier,  a  brave  soldier,  a  magnanimous  soldier,  a  hero  whose 
name  belongs  to  history,  whose  fame  is  perpetual. 

The  American  people  have  expected  and  exacted  too  much 
of  this  scarred  and  battered  veteran.  No  man  excels  in  every 
thing.  One  great  thing  is  as  much  as  we  should  look  for  from 
any  one  man. 

Divest  General  Scott  of  his  regimentals,  and  place  him  on 
the  rostrum,  and  we  have  a  hundred  white-livered  one-horse- 


324  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

power  attorneys  who  can  excel  him  in  debate,  and  they  would 
shine,  while  he  would  stammer  and  become  a  laughing-stock. 

Take  away  his  sword,  ask  him  to  write,  and  he  will  wield 
the  pen  so  awkwardly,  that  little  mousing  editors  will  denounce 
him,  and  cry  "  blockhead,"  and  a  great  many  other  delectable 
names  which  may  be  found  in  the  black-letter  literature  of  the 
day.  That  General  Scott  is  intellectually  a  great  man,  nobody 
pretends  to  say,  who  is  at  all  qualified  to  judge.  He  is  great 
in  the  camp,  he  would  be  good  for  nothing  in  Congress.  He 
is  a  brave  soldier,  but  a  bungling  statesman.  He  is  a  capital 
swordsman,  but  a  wretched  speaker.  He  can  fight  well,  but 
he  cannot  write  so  well  as  some  of  the  private  soldiers  under 
his  command.  When  he  attempts  to  address  an  audience,  his 
tongue  hangs  fire  at  first,  and  when  it  does  go  off,  it  goes  off 
"half  cocked,"  and  never  hits  the  mark.  It  is  well  for  him 
he  was  not  elected  President  of  the  United  States,  for  a  free 
people  do  not  desire  to  be  commanded,  and  it  is  more  than 
probable,  in  the  event  of  his  election  he  would  have  been  either 
the  tool  of  his  cabinet,  or  a  tyrant  over  the  country.  In  either 
case  he  would  have  disappointed  his  friends  and  lost  the  green 
laurels  and  the  golden  honors  he  has  won.  He  would  have 
been  always  eating  a  hasty  and  indigestible  "  plate  of  soup," 
with  a  most  tormenting  "  fire  in  his  rear." 

In  private  life  he  is  a  most  exemplary  man,  abjuring  the  uso 
of  wine,  consequently,  he  will  never  fall  under  the  influence  of 
grape-shot.  His  history  is  so  familiar  to  every  schoolboy,  ] 
will  not  repeat  the  facts  in  this  sketch. 

His  character  may  be  summed  up  in  a  few  words.     He  is 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  325 

vain  and  loves  military  display,  "  fuss  and  feathers  "  delight 
him  exceedingly.  He  is  proud,  and  cannot  brook  opposition 
without  an  explosion  of  bad  temper.  He  is  sensitive,  and  exacts 
much  attention  from  his  friends.  He  is  brave,  and  woe 
betide  his  enemies.  When  he  speaks  from  the  black  lips  of 
cannon,  and  cannon-balls  are  the  iron  words  he  utters,  he  makes 
an  impression,  and  the  nations  of  the  earth  hear  his  eloquence. 
When  bayonets  are  arguments,  he  is  pretty  sure  to  make  his 
opponents  yield  to  the  force  of  his  pointed  reasoning.  He  is 
fond  of  fame,  and  the  following  lines  are  not  inappropriate, 
although  when  I  wrote  them  I  had  another  person  in  view. 

Clarissa.     We  all  must  die,  for  Death  will  serve  his  writ, 
And  we  must  pay  down  life,  when  Nature's  debt 
Is  due.     When  sickness,  like  a  notary,  comes 
To  warn  us  that  the  days  of  grace  are  few — 
We  need  not  fear,  if  our  accounts  are  right, 
And  we're  stockholders  in  the  bank  of  heaven. 

William.     I'm  the  ten  millionth  fraction  of  the  race 
A  grain  of  sand  upon  the  sea-washed  shore, 
An  insect  fluttering  in  the  light  of  day, 
An  item  lost  in  the  vast  aggregate, 
And  when  I  drop  into  the  grave,  the  world 
Will  miss  me,  as  the  forest  does  a  leaf, 
Plucked  by  the  wind  and  blown  away  from  sight ; 
Then  why  this  inextinguishable  thirst  for  fame  ? 
Fame  is  a  sea  that  will  not  seek  the  grain 
Of  sand  the  sea  bird  swallowed  with  its  meal. 
Fame  is  a  sun,  that  will  not  leave  its  sphere, 
To  find  the  gnat  that  sported  in  its  beams. 
Fame  will  not  seek  me  in  my  sodded  home, 
When  the  red  sea  of  life  has  ceased  to  dash 
Against  this  narrow  shore  of  flesh  and  bones ; 
And  when  the  sun  of  life,  unclouded  now, 
Sinks  out  of  sight  behind  the  churchyard  mound. 


326  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Clarissa.     Ambitious  man  !  if  fickle  fame  should  press 
A  golden  trumpet  to  her  lips  of  air, 
And  sound  thy  name  throughout  the  wondering  world, 
Until  it  filled  the  earth  as  yonder  moon 
Fills  all  the  space  twixt  earth  and  heaven  with  light, 
And  mothers  called  their  children  by  thy  name, 
And  sculptors  in  Carara  carved  thy  bust, 
While  poets  praised  thee  in  immortal  verse  — 
And  nations  named  their  capitols  for  thee, 
Until  thy  broad-mouthed  appetite  was  gorged — 
And  thou  wert  covered  o'er  with  stars  of  fame, 
As  over-arching  skies  are  paved  with  light. 
Would  fell  disease  respect  thy  laurelled  brow  ? 
Could  scowling  death  be  bribed  to  spare  thy  life  ? 
And  after  death,  would  the  unsparing  hand 
Of  time  be  slow  to  turn  thy  form  to  dust  ? 
Couldst  thou  step  from  thy  monument  to  heaven  ? 
Would  bannered  angels  with  their  golden  harps, 
Echo  the  brazen  throated  fame  of  earth, 
And  shake  with  shouts  the  battlements  of  bliss, 
And  march  in  triumph  through  the  golden  streets  ? 

William.     The  ocean  swallows  streams,  then  puts  its  Hpa 
Of  sand  against  the  river's  mouth  for  more — 
Clasping  the  green  banks  in  its  ardent  arms, 
Until  at  last,  the  jealous  moon  comes  forth 
From  her  white  chambers  in  the  lofty  sky, 
And  with  her  wand  drives  back  the  wanton  waves. 
Fame  is  the  restless  ocean  in  my  breast, 
To  which  all  other  passions  flow  like  streams. 

Clarissa.     Good  resolutions  stereotyped  in  deeds, 
Pure  hearts  whose  throbs  are  felt  in  what  we  say — 
Souls  shining  with  the  light  that  comes  from  God, 
And  lives  unselfish  and  unstained  by  vice, 
Should  be  our  aim,  and  not  the  praise  of  men. 
The  loud  hosannas  of  to-day,  may  be 
Exchanged  for  scorn,  and  cross,  and  crown  of  thorns 
Before  the  next  moon  fills  her  horn  with  light. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  321 


WILLIAM  R.  STACY. 

WILLIAM  R.  STACY  is  a  plain,  business  man,  whose  bands, 
and  heart,  and  soul,  are  earnestly  engaged  in  the  total 
abstinence  reform.  In  season  and  out  of  season,  he  is  the 
same  untiring,  uncompromising  and  unflinching  champion  of 
the  cause.  In  Societies,  in  Sections,  in  Divisions,  in  Tents, 
and  in  Temples,  he  is  known  as  an  efficient  worker.  Fair- 
weather  friends  and  summer-fly  advocates  of  abstinence 
doctrines  are  constantly  rebuked  by  his  unyielding  adhe 
rence  to  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  the  pledge.  Temperance 
thermometers,  whose  mercury  is  sure  to  rise  and  fall, 
according  to  the  state  of  the  atmosphere,  wonder  with  open 
mouths  and  open  eyes,  and  leathern  ears  and  leaden  brains, 
why  Mr.  Stacy  denies  himself  the  lazy  ease  which  they  mis 
name  enjoyment.  Politicians,  who  can  accommodate  them 
selves  to  every  sect  in  religion,  to  every  party  in  politics,  to 
every  shade  of  society,  and,  like  chameleons,  assume  the  color 
of  the  community  in  which  they  move,  are  astonished  that  a 
man  of  his  tact  and  influence,  and  persevering  energy,  does 
not  attempt  to  reap  laurels  and  gain  gold  in  the  field  of  poli 
tical  action.  Those  who  need  not  envy  the  donkey  its  redun 
dancy  of  ear,  are  surprised  that  such  a  sensible  man  should 
engage  in  such  "  small  business." 


328  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Captain  Stacy  is  President  of  the  Parent  Washingtoniaii 
Temperance  Society,  in  this  city — an  institution  which  has 
been  in  successful  operation  for  twelve  years,  during  which  time 
hundreds  and  thousands  have  been  added  to  its  membership. 
This  good  Samaritan  society  not  only  secures  names  to  the 
pledge,  but  feeds  the  hungry,  clothes  the  destitute,  visits  the 
sick.  It  has  been  instrumental  in  healing  hearts  that  were 
broken,  and  restoring  to  society  men  who  had  degraded  them 
selves  by  the  use  of  strong  drinks.  Through  summer  and 
winter,  spring  and  autumn,  fair  weather  and  foul  weather,  Mr. 
Stacy  has  attended  the  meetings  of  this  society. 

His  friends  seem  to  appreciate  his  worth  by  heaping  honors 
upon  him.  The  last  two  years,  he  was  Most  Worthy  Asso 
ciate  of  the  National  Division.  He  is  now  Most  Worthy 
Templar  of  the  National  Temple.  These  distinctions  have 
fallen  upon  a  worthy  man.  There  is  no  poetry,  no  tinselry 
about  his  speeches.  His  thoughts  are  clad  in  a  thin  covering 
of  scanty  words.  He  works  noiselessly  and  out  of  sight,  but 
very  effectually.  Is  there  a  cross  to  carry,  his  shoulders  are 
chosen  to  bear  the  burden.  Is  there  money  to  raise,  his 
financiering  skill  is  called  into  exercise.  Is  there  a  mammoth 
meeting  to  be  held,  he  is  expected  to  make  the  necessary 
preparations. 

Mr.  Stacy  is  in  the  prime  of  life,  a  man  of  common  stature, 
has  dark  hair,  large  light  eyes,  an  honest  face,  a  good  develop 
ment  of  benevolence,  and  firmness  enough  to  render  him 
obstinate  when  opposed — providing  ho  has  reason  to  believe 
he  is  on  the  right  side  of  the  question  Few  men  are  so  well 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  329 

acquainted  with  the  "workings"  of  the  National  Temple  as 
he ;  few  men  have  more  influence  in  the  great  national  tem 
perance  movement  than  he.  It  is  evident  that  he  accepts 
office  for  the  purpose  of  extending  the  sphere  of  his  usefulness, 
and  not  for  the  gratification  of  his  personal  vanity. 

He  never  occupies  much  time  in  his  public  addresses — 
does  not  stop  to  dissect  his  dictionary  for  choice  language,  but 
speaks  out  in  manly  style  the  thoughts  that  are  uppermost 
in  his  mind.  He  is  not  a  classical  scholar,  and  never  tries 
to  pass  for  more  than  he  is  worth,  by  awkward  attempts  at 
rounding  periods  and  polishing  sentences.  His  striking  cha 
racteristics  are  generosity,  energy  perseverance,  courage  and 
aommon  sense. 


330  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


GERRIT   SMITH. 

ON  my  return  from  the  West,  I  called  to  see  that  generous 
philanthropist,  eminent  orator,  and  impracticable  radical,  Ger- 
rit  Smith.  I  found  him  in  his  office,  pen  in  hand  at  his  wri 
ting-desk.  When  he  read  my  note  of  introduction,  he  remarked 
that  he  was  familiar  with  my  name,  and  supposed  I  was  a 
much  older  man.  He  politely  invited  me  to  avail  myself  of 
his  hospitality.  I  did  so,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
him  at  home. 

Mr.  Smith  lives  in  a  small  white  house,  about  two  miles 
distant  from  the  village  of  Peterboro'.  It  is  plainly  and  spa 
ringly  furnished.  There  are  no  luxurious  sofas  upon  which 
to  lounge,  no  costly  carpets  upon  which  to  tread,  no  costly 
mirrors  at  which  to  gaze.  Everything  about  his  residence 
partakes  of  the  useful  rather  than  the  ornamental.  I  found 
him  an  accessible,  sociable,  pleasant  man,  thoroughly  familiar 
with  the  history  of  the  reformers  and  the  reformatory  move 
ments  of  the  present  day. 

It  is  well  known  that  this  distinguished  man  stands  at  the 
head  of  the  most  radical  class  of  reformers.  Indeed  he  stands 
out  so  far  in  front  of  his  age,  that  slow-moving  conservatives 
cannot  appreciate  the  man  nor  his  motives.  He  denounces 
rum-patronizing  and  pro-slavery  churches'  consequently  all 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  33} 

the  anathema  maranathas  of  unsympathizing  and  unsanctified 
professors  of  religion  are  hurled  at  his  head,  and  he  is  con 
demned  as  an  infidel,  whereas  he  evidently  is  an  humble  and 
devoted  follower  of  Christ.  "  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know 
them."  He  asks  a  blessing  at  his  table.  Night  and  morning 
he  lays  the  sacrifice  of  a  broken  and  contrite  heart  on  the 
altar  of  family  devotion.  Every  day  he  carefully  studies  the 
Scriptures ;  and  manifests  his  love  to  God  whom  he  has  not 
seen,  by  his  love  toward  his  brother-man  whom  he  has  seen. 

Few  men  have  done  more  than  Mr.  Smith  to  assist  the  poor, 
to  clothe  the  naked,  to  feed  the  hungry,  reform  the  drunkard 
and  liberate  the  bondman.  The  hotels  owned  by  him  in  dif 
ferent  towns  and  cities  in  this  country,  are  invariably  rented 
for  half  the  sum  liquor-landlords  would  pay  for  the  same  pre 
mises.  In  this  way,  he  has  cheerfully  sacrificed  thousands  of 
dollars  to  promote  the  temperance  cause.  I  have  not  men 
tioned  his  munificent  donations  and  eloquent  lectures  directed 
to  the  same  object.  This  model  man  gave  three  thousand 
farms  to  the  same  number  of  black  persons,  and  now  he  offers 
a  thousand  farms  and  ten  thousand  dollars  to  a  thousand  white 
persons  in  the  State  of  New  York.  Mr.  Smith's  father  was  in 
partnership  with  John  Jacob  Astor,  at  one  period  of  his  life. 
When  he  died,  he  bequeathed  to  the  subject  of  this  sketch 
three  quarters  of  a  million  acres  of  land. 

In  point  of  intellect,  Mr.  Smith  ranks  with  such  men  as  Clay 
and  Benton.  His  mind  is  comprehensive  and  well  cultivated. 
His  temperament  volcanic,  but  usually  controlled  by  an  acute 
judgment.  As  an  orator  he  has  but  few  superiors.  His  man- 


332  CRATON    SKETCHES,    AND 

ner  is  deliberate  and  dignified ;  his  matter  choice  and  cla* 
sical ;  his  personal  appearance  noble  and  attractive.  He  is  about 
six  feet  tall,  and  of  perfect  proportions ;  forehead  high  and 
broad;  eyes  large,  dark,  and  expressive;  hair  brown,  and 
cropped  close  to  his  head.  At  the  time  I  saw  him  he  wore  a 
suit  of  bottle-green,  and  his  broad  shirt-collar  lay  down  like  a 
large  snow-flake  over  a  black  neckerchief.  He  never  deco 
rates  his  person  with  the  tinselry  and  jewelry  of  fashion.  He 
eats  plain  food,  sleeps  on  a  hard  bed,  bathes  every  day,  drinks 
nothing  but  cold  water,  walks  from  four  to  ten  miles  a  day, 
writes  from  fifty  to  two  hundred  letters  per  week,  furnishes 
long  and  labored  communications  for  the  press,  and  speaks 
frequently  at  public  meetings. 

It  is  not  often  we  find  a  man  with  such  immense  wealth  at 
his  command,  sympathizing  as  he  does  with  his  less  fortunate 
fellow  men.  He  believes  that  man  is  as  much  entitled  to  the 
earth  as  he  is  to  air  and  water,  and  desires  to  see  every  man 
own  a  house  and  lot ;  is  opposed  to  tariffs,  and  advocates  with 
great  zeal  and  eloquence  the  doctrine  of  free  trade ;  believes 
there  is  "  a  good  time  coming,"  when  the  clarion  of  war  shall 
cease,  and  the  olive-trees  shall  grow  above  mouldering  bones 
on  battlefields ;  when  degrading  poverty  shall  hide  its  dimin 
ished  head,  and  smiling  competence  shall  find  all  men  sitting 
under  their  own  vines  and  fig-trees,  none  daring  to  molest  or 
make  them  afraid ;  when  slavery  shall  no  longer  bind  on  heavy 
burdens ;  when  intemperance  shall  be  among  the  things  that 
were,  and  abstinence  principles  shall  universally  prevail.  With 
such  views,  it  may  not  be  expected  that  he  always  travels  on  a 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  333 

smooth  road  and  sleeps  on  a  bed  of  roses.  He  stirs  up  the  old 
hornet-nests  of  hunkerism,  and  awakens  the  slumbering  dog« 
kennels  af  conservatism;  so  that  he  frequently  hears  the  buzz 
ing  of  insects  and  the  baying  of  hounds. 

Incorrigible  conservatives,  who  cling  to  grey  old  customs 
and  straight  roads,  who  hate  an  uneven  pathway,  although 
it  may  be  the  safest  and  the  nearest,  remind  one  of  the 
rats  of  Norway,  that  travel  in  millions  from  the  hills  toward 
the  ocean.*  They  turn  neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left,  but 
gnaw  their  way  through  barns  and  corn-fields,  swimming  or  sail 
ing  over  rivers,  climbing  walls  and  mountains,  sweeping  through 
crowded  thoroughfares,  tumbling  from  the  roofs  of  houses. 
On,  on,  rolls  the  wave  of  rats,  leaving  behind  nothing  but  dead 
carcases  and  a  foul  atmosphere.  Man  is  a  progressive  animal, 
and  the  more  conservative  he  is,  the  nearer  he  approximates  to 
the  uriintellectual  brute,  and  the  further  he  recedes  from  estab 
lished  laws.  God  made  man  upright,  and  furnished  him  with 
ft  capital  of  bones  and  brains  with  which  to  commence  life. 
Experience,  observation,  and  reflection  taught  him  that  winter 
would  freeze  him,  summer  scorch  him,  fire  burn  him,  water 
drown  him,  the  wild  beast  devour  him,  and  the  avalanche 
crush  him.  He  robed  himself  in  garments  to  protect  him  from 
the  cold  of  the  North  and  the  heat  of  the  South.  He  built  a 
house  for  his  comfort  and  protection.  He  domesticated  the 
dog,  the  cow,  and  the  horse,  for  his  own  accommodation.  He 
dried  venison  and  fish,  sowed  seed  and  reaped  harvests,  and 
continued  his  progressive  movements  until  the  rude  hut  became 

*  Carlyle. 


334  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

a  stately  palace,  the  bark  canoe  a  mighty  ship,  witl.  sails  anc 
masts,  the  clumsy  cart,  a  city  on  wheels,  drawn  by  steam-steedi 
over  iron  roads.  Steam  is  our  horse,  lightning  our  herald, 
water  our  servant,  and  the  sun  our  portrait-painter. 

Reform  tunnels  our  mountains,  levels  the  hills,  lifts  up  the 
valleys,  and  flings  its  floating  bridges  of  steel  and  steam  and 
flame  and  smoke  over  the  oceans.  Our  railroads  are  iron 
bands  binding  us  iu  the  bonds  of  universal  brotherhood,  Oui 
electric  wires  are  so  many  nerves  of  sensation,  reaching  from 
Maine  to  Minnesota. 

Mr.  Smith  is  one  of  the  few  who  keep  pace  with  the  march 
of  improvement,  and  he  heartily  employs  his  purse,  pen  and 
tongue  in  behalf  of  free  trade,  free  soil,  free  types,  free  lips, 
and  free  men.  He  believes  the  Constitution  is  an  "  anti-slavery 
document;"  so  do  the  free-soil  abolitionists,  yet  is  not  a  "free- 
soiler."  He  believes  the  church  is  pro-slavery,  and  on  that 
question  agrees  with  the  Garrisonians,  but  he  does  not  belong 
to  that  party.  He  is  at  the  head  of  the  "  Liberty  party,"  aE'J 
his  creed  embraces  every  degree  of  reform,  from  the  use  ( T 
cold  water  as  a  beverage  and  in  the  bath,  to  the  emancipatio  . 
of  three  millions  of  men. 


GERRIT  SMITH'S  SPEECH  AT  THE  ANTI-SLAVERY  CONVENTION, 
PETERBORO',  N.  Y.,  OCTOBER,  1835. 

"  MR.  PRESIDENT. — Allow  me  to  commence  a  few  remarka 
by  stating  the  history  of  this  resolution.  On  returning  home 
from  Utica  last  night,  my  mind  was  so  much  excited  with  the 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  335 

horrid  scenes  of  the  day,  and  the  frightful  encroachments  made 
on  the  right  of  free  discussion,  that  I  could  not  sleep,  and  at 
3  o'clock  I  left  my  bed,  and  drafted  the  resolution  as  just  read, 
and  also  noted  down  a  few  heads  of  thought  which  I  may 
refer  to  or  not  as  I  proceed. 

"  It  is  known  to  all  here  that  I  am  not  a  member  of  the 
anti-slavery  society — nor  am  I  prepared  to  become  a  member. 
I  rise  under  the  courtesy  of  the  vote  by  which  I  have  been 
kindly  invited  to  sit  with  you  and  take  part  in  your  delibera 
tions.  At  the  same  time  I  am  admonished  by  passing  events, 
that  it  will  soon  be  necessary  for  every  friend  of  human  rights 
or  of  the  slave,  and  every  man  who  is  not  himself  a  slave,  or 
willing  to  be  one,  to  act  in  concert  with  those  over  whose  heads 
the  war  is  apparently  to  be  carried  on  against  the  right  of 
free  discussion,  and  probably  the  day  is  not  distant,  when,  with 
all  my  objections,  I  shall  become  a  member  of  your  society. 

"That  I  have  had  objections  to  the  course  of  the  Anti-slavery 
Society  is  well  known.  What  those  objections  were  I  need 
not  state  here.  They  are  spread  out  before  the  public,  and  it 
would  be  unreasonable  to  bring  them  forward  here. 

"  This  much,  however,  I  will  say  now.  Your  great  principles 
are  rny  great  principles.  I  was  born  with  them.  I  am  not 
conscious  that  I  ever  in  my  life  opposed,  for  an  hour,  the  great 
and  glorious  doctrine  of  immediate  emancipation.  The  odious 
doctrines  that  you  hold,  I  hold  also.  All  the  sentiments  that 
occasion  you  to  be  called  amalgamators  and  insurrectionists, 
make  the  supporters  of  slavery  call  me  an  amalgamator 
and  an  insurrectionist.  I  love  to  look  at  the  Anti-slaverj 


836  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Society,  and  at  myself,  and  to  say,  '  una  spes,  unaque 
ambobus  erit?* 

"  When  I  see  your  reputation,  and  property,  and  lives  in 
peril,  I  love  to  bring  my  reputation,  and  property,  and  life  into 
the  same  peril.  Let  me  read  the  resolution. 

" '  Resolved. — That  the  right  of  free  discussion  given  to  us 
by  our  God,  and  asserted  and  guarded  by  the  laws  of  oui 
country,  is  a  right  so  vital  to  man's  freedom,  and  dignity,  and 
usefulness,  that  we  can  never  be  guilty  of  its  surrender,  without 
consenting  to  exchange  that  freedom  for  slavery,  and  that 
dignity  and  usefulness  for  debasement  and  worthlessness.' 

"  I  love  our  free  and  happy  government.  But  not  because 
it  confers  any  new  rights  upon  us.  Our  rights  spring  from  a 
nobler  source  than  human  constitutions  and  governments — 
from  the  favor  of  Almighty  God.  Constitutions  and  laws  are 
modes  of  human  device  for  asserting  and  defining  and  carrying 
out  the  great  natural  and  inherent  rights  of  man,  which  belong 
to  him  as  a  rational  creature  of  God. 

"  We  do  not  learn  our  rights  in  the  book  of  Constitution. 
We  learn  them  from  the  Book  of  Books,  which  is  the  great 
charter  of  human  rights.  Rights  belong  to  human  nature. 
Constitutions  at  the  most  do  but  recognise  and  preserve  what 
never  was  theirs  to  give.  The  reason  why  I  love  a  republi 
can  form  of  government  is,  not  that  this  form  of  government 
clothes  us  with  rights  withheld  by  other  forms,  but  that  it 
makes  fewer  encroachments  on  the  rights  which  God  gave 

*  One  hope  and  one  salvation  shall  be  to  us  both. 

f 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  337 

us,  fewer  restrictions  upon  the  divinely  appointed  scope  of 
man's  agency. 

*'***** 

"  I  must  say  one  word  under  the  head  I  have  marked  in 
my  notes  of  '  Utica  Mobs.'  Not  that  I  design  to  dwell  on 
the  transactions  of  yesterday  themselves.  But  a  topic  which 
they  suggest  is  important  enough  to  be  noticed.  This  right 
of  free  discussion,  sir,  there  is  one  class  of  men  who  ought 
to  be  particularly  tenacious  of,  I  mean  poor  men.  These 
constitute  the  most  numerous  class  in  every  country,  and 
therefore  to  the  true  philanthropist  they  are  of  the  greatest 
value.  The  worldling  graduates  his  interest  in  men  according 
to  their  wealth,  or  rank,  or  external  show.  But  the  eye  of 
the  Christian  philanthropist  regards  all  with  equal  interest, 
because  all  souls  are  equal.  When  the  rich  are  divested  of 
their  rights,  they  have  still  their  riches  and  honors  to  rest  on, 
for  dignity  and  for  defence.  But  when  the  poor  man  is 
divested  of  his  right  to  speak,  he  is  divested  of  all  his  rights. 
Take  from  him  that  in  which,  almost  alone,  he  stands  on 
equal  ground  with  his  rich  neighbor,  the  freedom  of  speech, 
and,  sir,  the  man  of  poverty  will  soon  find  himself  wholly  at 
the  mercy  of  the  man  of  wealth.  The  poor  men  in  Utica 
whom  we  saw  led  on  by  men  of  wealth  to  a  violent  assault 
against  free  discussion,  will  yet  see  the  suicidal  character  of 
their  proceedings. 

"  The  rights  which  they  have  attacked  in  your  persons,  are 
their  own  dearest  rights,  without  which  they  cannot  help 

being  trampled  into  the  dust,  for  wealth  and  title  have  always 

15 


338  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

of  old  trampled  into  the  dust  those  who  have  not  this  right 
to  speak. 

"  We  are  even  now  threatened  with  legislative  restrictions 
on  this  right.  Let  us  tell  our  legislators  in  advance  that  we 
cannot  bear  it.  The  man  who  attempts  to  interpose  such 
restrictions  does  a  grievous  wrong  to  God  and  man,  which  we 
cannot  bear.  Submit  to  this,  and  we  are  no  longer  what  God 
made  us  to  be — men.  Laws  to  gag  men's  mouths,  to  seal  up 
their  lips,  to  freeze  up  the  warm  gushings  of  the  heart,  are 
laws  which  the  free  spirit  cannot  brook.  They  are  laws 
contrary  alike  to  the  nature  of  man  and  the  commands  of 
God,  laws  destructive  of  human  happiness  and  the  divine 
constitution,  and  before  God  and  man  they  are  NULL  and 
VOID.  They  defeat  the  very  purposes  for  which  God  made 
man,  and  throw  him  mindless,  helpless,  and  worthless,  at  the 
feet  of  the  oppressor. 

"  And  for  what  purpose  are  we  called  to  throw  down  our 
pens  and  seal  up  our  lips,  and  sacrifice  our  influence  over  our 
fellow-men,  by  the  use  of  free  discussion  ?  If  it  was  for  an 
object  of  benevolence,  that  we  were  called  to  renounce  that 
freedom  of  speech  with  which  God  made  us,  there  would  be 
some  color  of  fitness  in  the  demand.  But  such  a  sacrifice, 
the  cause  of  truth  and  mercy  never  calls  us  to  make. 

"  The  cause  requires  the  exertion,  not  the  suppression,  of  our 
noblest  powers. 

"  But  here  we  are  called  on  to  degrade  and  unman  our 
selves,  and  to  withhold  from  our  fallen  men  that  influence 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  339 

which  we  ought  to  exercise  for  their  good.     And  for  what  ? 
I  will  tell  you  for  what. 

"  That  the  oppressed  may  lie  more  passive  at  the  feet  of 
the  oppressor ;  that  one  sixth  of  our  American  people  may 
never  know  their  rights;  that  two-and-a-half  millions  of  our 
own  countrymen,  crushed  in  the  cruel  folds  of  slavery,  may 
remain  in  all  their  misery  and  despair,  without  pity  and 
without  hope. 

"  For  such  a  purpose,  so  wicked,  so  inexpressibly  mean,  the 
southern  slave-holder  calls  on  us  to  lie  down,  like  whipped 
and  trembling  spaniels,  at  his  feet. 

"  Our  reply  is  this ;  our  republican  spirits  cannot  submit  to 
such  conditions.  God  did  not  make  us,  Jesus  did  not  redeem 
us,  for  such  vile  and  sinful  uses. 

****** 

"  Whom  shall  we  muster  on  our  side  in  this  great  battle 
between  liberty  and  slavery.  .Not  the  many.  The  many 
never  will  muster  in  such  a  cause,  until  they  first  see  unequi 
vocal  signs  of  its  triumph. 

"  We  don't  want  the  many,  but  the  true-hearted,  who  are 
not  skilled  in  the  weapons  of  carnal  warfare.  We  don't 
want  the  politicians,  who,  to  secure  the  votes  of  the  south,  care 
not  if  slavery  is  perpetual.  We  don't  want  the  merchant, 
who,  to  secure  the  custom  of  the  south,  is  willing  to  applaud 
slavery,  and  leave  his  countrymen,  and  their  children,  and 
their  children's  children,  to  the  tender  mercies  of  slavery 
for  ever. 


340  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

"We  want  only  one  class  of  men  for  this  warfare.  Be 
that  class  ever  so  small,  we  want  only  those  who  will  stand 
on  the  rock  of  Christian  principle.  We  want  men  who  can 
defend  the  right  of  free  discussion  on  the  ground  that  God 
gave  it. 

"  We  want  men  who  will  act  with  unyielding  honesty  and 
firmness. 

"  We  have  room  for  all  such,  but  no  room  for  the  time 
serving  and  selfish.  We  have  room  as  well  for  the  aged  and 
decrepid  warrior  as  for  the  vigorous  and  the  young. 

"The  hands  that  are  now  trembling  with  the  weight  of 
years,  are  the  best,  hands  in  the  world  to  grasp  the  shield  of 
faith.  These  gray-haired  servants  of  God  best  know  how  to 
move  the  hands  that  move  the  world. 

"  We  want  them  and  such  as  them ;  men  who  are  acquainted 
with  God,  and  used  to  God's  work,  and  these  we  shall  have. 
And  his  blessing  we  shall  have  if  we  are  humble,  and  we 
cannot  fail. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  341 


EDWARD    BEECHER. 

Oh,  what  is  man,  Great  Maker  of  mankind ! 

That  Thou  to  him  so  great  respect  dost  bear — 
That  Thou  adorn'st  him  with  so  bright  a  mind, 

Makest  him  a  king,  and  e'en  an  angel's  peer ! 

SIR  JOHN  DA  VIES. 

EDWARD  BEECHER  is  a  close  thinker,  a  cogent  reasoner,  an 
impassioned  speaker.  His  sermons  are  not  elegant  essays, 
got  up  for  the  entertainment  of  his  hearers.  They  are  not 
blank  verse  wire-drawn  into  very  blank  prose  :  not  pearls  and 
diamonds  and  precious  stones,  all  stolen  except  the  string 
that  ties  them  together.  They  are  true-blue,  orthodox 
sermons,  full  of  Beecher,  truth,  spirit,  and  scripture.  They 
are  living,  breathing,  talking  sermons — famous  for  great 
thoughts  and  simple  words. 

Mr.  Beecher  is  a  fluent  and  forcible  speaker,  and  makes 
use  of  the  simplest  (not  always  the  purest)  Saxon  in  his 
discourses.  In  his  happiest  mood  his  voice  is  often  raised  to 
a  high  pitch,  and  he  soars  with  untiring  wing  higher,  and 
higher  still,  and  still  higher,  until  his  head  is  among  the 
stars,  and  his  face — like  the  countenance  of  Moses  on  the 
mountain — reflects  the  radiance  of  inspiration.  He  not 
unfrequently  produces  a  thrilling  effect  by  reiterated  strokes, 


8^2  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

and  by  presenting  epithet  after  epithet,  figure  after  figure, 
fact  after  fact,  argument  after  argument,  appeal  after  appeal, 
which  flow  on  like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  exciting  the  alarm 
of  the  unconverted,  who  have  spread  their  sail  upon  the 
waters  of  life,  without  provisions  or  pilot,  and  eliciting  the 
admiration  of  those  who  have,  and  those  who  hope  they  have, 
fair  prospects  for  reaching  the  haven  of  rest. 

Mr.  Beecher  has  studied  mental  philosophy,  and  is  well 
versed  in  theology ;  has  considerable  knowledge  of  the  ways 
of  the  world,  for,  unlike  many  of  his  cloth,  he  does  not  deem 
•it  a  duty  to  shut  himself  up  in  his  study  continually,  for  fear 
of  rendering  himself  "  too  common  "  to  excite  the  wonder  of 
the  people  on  the  Sabbath.  There  are  some  clergymen  who 
keep  themselves  as  wild  beasts  are  kept  in  a  menagerie; 
you  cannot  see  them  without  a  ticket,  and  then  you  must 
keep  at  a  respectable  distance.  Why,  it  is  more  difficult  to 
obtain  an  interview  with  some  ministers,  than  it  is  to  have  a 
tete-a-tete  with  the  Pope  of  Rome  !  If  Paul,  with  his  hands 
hardened  at  -tent-making,  or  Peter,  fresh  from  his  fishing 
tackle,  were  to  solicit  an  opportunity  to  preach  in  their 
pulpits,  they  would  give  Peter  and  Paul  such  a  response  as 
the  Pharisees  of  old  gave  them.  Dr.  Beecher  is  not  one  of 
that  class  of  spiritual  teachers.  You  will  see  him  in  the 
streets,  and  at  the  exchange,  in  the  reading-rooms,  in  the 
police  court,  at  the  public  meetings  in  Faneuil  Hall  and  Tre- 
mont  Temple.  He  is  a  sociable,  accessible,  generous  man, 
and  capital  company  where  he  is  sufficiently  acquainted  to 
"  unbend  the  monkish  brow."  It  is  because  he  mingles  with 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  343 

the  people  that  he  is  in  advance  of  many  of  his  clerical 
brethren. 

But  Edward  Beecher,  like  the  rest  of  us  poor  mortals,  has 
faults.  He  often  seems  to  attempt  to  work  up  his  feelings  to 
a  pitch  of  intense  excitement.  Under  such  circumstances 
there  will  be  noise  without  eloquence,  extreme  gesture  with 
out  extreme  unction.  In  that  way  he  exchanges  the  sub 
lime  for  the  sledge-hammer  style.  He  has  a  good  share  of 
moral  courage.  Like  his  brother,  the  "  Thunderer"  in  Brook 
lyn,  he  assails  with  tongue  and  pen,  from  the  pulpit  and  the 
press,  the  tergiversation,  the  coat-turning,  the  mouse-ing,  the 
meanness  of  public  men,  who,  for  laurels  or  lucre,  basely 
betray  their  country  with  a  kiss. 

The  Brooklyn  Beecher  is  almost  constantly  throwing  shot 
and  shell  into  the  camp  and  court  of  the  enemy.  Some  poor 
fool  in  his  congregation  became  offended  with  him,  the  other 
day,  because  he  publicly  rebuked  the  recreancy  of  a  promi 
nent  politician  who  recently  betrayed  his  country,  and  put  a 
crown  of  thorns  on  the  bleeding  brow  of  humanity.  This 
nervous  simpleton  put  down  on  paper  the  unpalatable  senti 
ments  he  could  not  swallow,  and  had  them  published ;  and 
Sir  Oracle,  the  editor,  in  all  the  pomp  of  pigmy  grandeur, 
undertook  to  lecture  H.  W.  Beecher  on  the  duties  of  preach 
ers  !  His  labors  were  lost ;  for  it  does  not  run  in  the  blood  of 
the  Beechers  to  be  frightened  at  pop-guns  in  the  arms  of 
grasshoppers.  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher,  speaking  of  his  two  dis 
tinguished  sons,  said,  Edward  fires  forty-pounders,  and  woe 


344  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

betide  tlie  man  that  lie  hits.     Henry  fires  grape-shot,  and  kills 
the  most  men. 

Edward  Beecher  is  in  the  zenith  of  his  nifmhood.  He  has 
used  his  brains  more  than  he  has  his  teeth,  consequently  his 
head  looks  older  than  his  face.  His  hair  is  now  turning 
grey ;  his  forehead  is  broad  and  high,  and  indicates  extraordi 
nary  intellectual  power ;  his  eyes  are  large  and  expressive, 
and  burn  like  meteors,  when  he  hides  himself  behind  the 
cross,  and  pleads  earnestly  for  the  welfare  of  men  and  the 
glory  of  God.  He  is  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Congregation- 
alist,  a  religious  journal  of  great  merit.  He  is  also  pastor  of 
the  church  in  Salem  street.  At  one  period  of  his  life,  he  was 
President  of  one  of  the  Western  colleges.  He  is  a  man  of 
unimpeachable  purity,  has  a  highly  cultivated  and  strong  mind, 
and  is  esteemed  and  honored  in  the  walks  of  private  and 
public  life.  Go  and  hear  him,  and  he  will  prove,  beyond 
doubt,  that  whatever  is  lovely  in  innocence,  pure  in  virtue, 
good  in  morality,  thrilling  in  eloquence,  sublime  in  poetry,  01 
holy  in  truth,  may  be  found  in  the  Bible. 


J  C  Buttre 


OFF-HAND  TAKINGS.  345 


THOMAS  HART  BEATON 

THOMAS  HART  BENTOIS'  is  a  ripe  scholar,  a  ready  debater 
a  brave  soldier,  and  the  ablest  statesman  now  living  in 
America.  He  was  born  in  North  Carolina,  in  1783,  and  edu 
cated  at  Chapel  Hill  College,  studied  law  in  William  and 
Mary's  College.  In  1810,  entered  the  U.  S.  Army,  afterwards 
practised  law  in  Nashville,  Tennessee.  Soon  afterwards, 
moved  to  Missouri,  where  he  edited  a  newspaper.  In  1820, 
was  elected  to  the  U.  S.  Senate,  and  remained  in  that  body 
until  1851.  In  the  Senate  he  at  once  became  distinguished 
for  his  surpassing  talents.  He  was  one  of  the  chief  sup 
porters  of  the  administrations  of  General  Jackson  and  Martin 
Van  Buren.  He  is  now  a  member  of  Congress,  having 
defeated  the  entire  army  of  demagogues  that  opposed  him — 
kicking  down  their  platforms,  breaking  up  their  caucuses, 
exposing  their  wire-pulling,  and  mocking  at  their  nominations. 
This  apostle  of  freedom  for  the  south  and  west,  has  an  iron 
will,  indomitable  resolution,  and  perseverance  that  "  never  sur 
renders." 

He  is  a  short  stout  person,  with  a  magnificent  head  ;  grey 
eyes  •  Roman  nose,  and  a  face  beaming  with  intellect.  As 
a  speaker,  he  is  more  argumentative  than  eloquent ;  more  phi 
losophical  than  poetical.  Webster,  Calhoun,  Clay,  Benton, 
15* 


346  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

and  Cass  were  to  the  U.  S.  Senate  what  the  five  senses  are  tc 
the  human  system.  "  Old  Bullion  "  is  a  hero  of  Herculean 
strength,  who  has  turned  the  river  of  reform  through  the 
Augean  stable  of  party  politics  in  the  State  he  represents. 


WILLIAM  L.   MARCY. 

WILLIAM  L.  MARCY  was  born  in  Sturbridge,  Worcester 
County,  Massachusetts,  December  12,  1786.  After  graduat 
ing  with  honor  at  Brown  University,  he  took  up  his  residence 
in  the  city  of  Troy,  in  the  State  of  New  York,  where  he  stu 
died  and  practised  law.  He  rendered  efficient  service  during 
most  of  the  war  of  1812.  In  1816,  he  was  appointed  recor 
der  of  the  city  of  Troy,  but  owing  to  his  political  relation 
ship  with  Mr.  Van  Buren,  and  his  opposition  to  Gov.  Clinton, 
he  was  deposed  from  office  two  years  afterwards.  In  1821, 
he  became  adjutant-general  of  the  State,  and  in  1823,  he  was 
elected  Controller,  when  -he  removed  to  the  capital  of  the 
Empire  State,  and  became  a  member  of  the  Albany  Regency. 
In  1829,  he  was  appointed  one  of  the  associate  justices  of 
the  Supreme  Court,  but  resigned  that  office  in  1831,  when  he 
was  elected  to  the  United  States  Senate,  where  he  remained 
two  years,  during  which  time  he  was  elected  governor  of  the 
State  of  New  York.  He  was  twice  re-elected  to  that  post  of 
honor.  During  Mr.  Folk's  administration  he  accepted  the 
place  of  Secretary  of  War,  the  arduous  duties  of  which  he 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  34*} 

discharged  with  credit  to  himself  and  honor  to  his  country 
He  is  now  Secretary  of  State,  and  is,  far  and  away,  the  ablest 
man  in  the  Cabinet.  His  State  paper  on  the  Koszta  affair  is 
one  of  the  most  profound  arguments  ever  presented  to  the 
American  people.  It  created  a  wonderful  sensation  in  Europe, 
but  no  crowned  head  could  find  a  man  competent  to  meet  his 
unanswerable  logic.  President  Pierce  could  not  have  found 
another  man  within  the  radius  of  his  party  so  perfectly  qual* 
fied  to  be  "  prime  minister  "  of  the  United  States. 


ALFRED   BUM. 

I  HAVE  just  returned  from  the  New  Music  Hall,  where  I 
heard  a  repetition  of  the  reminiscences  of  a  stage  manager, 
from  the  lips  of  Mr.  Alfred  Bunn. 

Mr.  Bunn  is  a  portly  man  with  a  dull  face,  large  round 
head,  bald  on  the  crown  and  thinly  covered  with  grey  hair  on 
the  sides.  He  looks,  speaks,  and  acts  like  a  gentleman  John 
Bull.  He  must  be  nearly  sixty  years  of  age,  but  he  is  erect 
and  elastic,  as  most  men  are  in  the  prime  of  life.  He  dresses 
in  simple  black,  wears  a  huge  collar  that  threatens  to  saw  his 
ears  off,  while  the  points  of  it  play  peak-a-boo  around 
his  ample  chin.  A  lady  at  my  side  declared  that  his  feet  were 
handsome.  The  gentleman  is  a  bun  who  has  been  more  than 
half  baked — but  those  who  go  to  hear  him  will  be  done 


348  CRAYON    SKETCHES, 

brown,  even  though  they  be  dough.  Mr.  Alfred  Buuu  liai 
been  over  estimated  by  the  American  press.  It  is  all  ibl-de- 
rol  to  prate  about  such  a  man  lecturing  o»  the  genius  of 
Shakspeare.  He  has  not  the  genius  to  appreciate  the 
writings  of  the  immortal  bard.  Twice  have  I  listened  atten 
tively  and  impartially  to  his  best  efforts  in  his  happiest 
moods,  and  I  am  not  unkind  nor  unjust,  when  I  pronounce 
both  efforts  utter  failures.  Not  one  new  sentiment  did  he 
offer.  There  was  not  a  gleam  of  originality  in  his  lectures. 
What  he  did  present,  has  been  presented  a  thousand  times 
before,  and  a  thousand  times  better.  Then  his  voice  is  thick 
and  hazy,  so  that  you  cannot  understand  much  that  he  says. 
While  you  look  at  him  you  seem  to  be  listening  to  a  voice 
from  one  of  the  ante-chambers,  and  when  he  quotes 
Shakspeare,  he  spoils  the  passage  by  the  theatrical  and 
forced  gestures  which  accompany  his  quotations.  He 
abounds  in  puns,  quips,  quirks,  jokes,  bon  mots,  and 
anecdotes ;  and  if  you  do  not  laugh  at  them,  you  certainly 
must  laugh  to  see  him  laugh  at  them  himself — besides,  he 
has  been  the  manager  of  the  very  theatre  where  Garrick  and 
Sheridan  amused  an  empire,  and  he  has  been  personally 
acquainted  with  Lamb,  and  Smith,  and  Matthews,  and  has 
had  large  experience  in  London  Life.  I  have  no  doubt  he  is 
an  agreeable  companion,  lighting  up  the  social  circle  with  the 
sunshine  of  his  goodnature.  As  the  manager  of  a  play 
house,  I  venture  the  remark,  that  he  was  judicious,  liberal, 
and  honorable.  Mr.  Bunn  said  that  one  of  the  admirers  of 
the  genius  of  Shakspeare,  wrote  in  a  legible  hand  over  a 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  34ft 

glass  case  containing  the  works  of  the  great  Poet,  the  follow 
ing  notice.     To  Authors,  "  Thou  shalt  not  steal."     To  Critics 
and    Commentators,    "Thou   shalt    not   bear    false    witness 
against  thy  neighbor."     To  Actors,  "  Thou  shalt  do  no  mur 
der." 

Since  the  foregoing  was  written,  this  "  hot  cross  bun  "  has 
published  a  volume,  in  which  he  has  caricatured  some  and 
flattered  others.  A  cotemporary  speaking  of  Bunn's  sketch 
of  Moses  Kimball,  says : — 

"We  apprehend  that  should  Mr.  Bunn  again  visit  the 
'Little  Yankee  Theatre,'  he  will  be  served  worse  than  he 
was  by  Macready,  at  Drury  Lane,  a  few  years  ago.  '  Smith, 
the  box-office  feller,'  doubtless  would  assist  the  '  lusty  looking 
fellow,'  Kimball  in  a  boot  demonstration. 

"  Mr.  Bunn's  book  is  a  mere  record  of  '  hotel-bills,'  vain 
glorious  accounts  of  his  lectures,  flippant  anecdotes,  and  use 
less  descriptions.  What  is  new  in  it  is  not  true,  and  what  is 
true  is  not  new.  As  we  last  week  hinted,  the  story  of  his 
intercourse  with  Mr.  Kimball,  of  the  Museum,  is  a  fabrication 
from  beginning  to  end ;  the  best  of  it  is,  he  puts  the  genuine 
cockney  dialect  into  Kimball's  mouth." 

Here  is  the  sketch  : — 

"  'Take  a  seat,'  said  he  ;  'I'm  d— d  if  I  ain't  glad  to  see 
yer ;  heard  a  deal  on  yer ;  read  all  yer  works,  and  so  I'll  tell 
yer  how  I've  got  along.' 

"  When  I  observed  that  I  had  but  a  few  minutes  to  stay, 
he  replied — 

"  '  D — a  that ;  it  won't  take  yer  long.     I  was  formerly  a 


350  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

merchant,  and  made  bad  affairs  on  it ;  but  seein'  a  way  o 
gettin'  on  agin'  I  started  fresh ;  first  of  all  at  Gleason's,  nov» 
the  pictur'  gallery ;  saw  a  better  chance,  and  got  a  feller  to 
build  the  Museum — my  own  idea.  Barnum  copied  after  me. 
I  could  ttll  yer  many  things,  how  I  hit,  and  how  I  missed ; 
but  the  first  great  "go"  was  the  "Temperance  Reform" 
piece ;  I  made  a  sort  of  "  Tom  and  Jerry  "  affair  on  it ;  lug 
ged  into  the  piece  a  young  fellow,  a  quiet,  modest  person  at 
starting,  but  who  turned  out  a  h — 11  of  a  drunkard ;  and  then, 
I  had  a  sort  of  Logic  man  to  go  about  with  'un,  just  to  try 
and  keep  'un  in  order,  and  a  Yankee  chap  to  make  some  fun. 
We  put  the  thing  together  among  ourselves;  and  I  made 
Smith  my  manager — he's  a  capital  feller,  though  he  can't 
act ;  but  anything  '11 — so  I  made  Smith  play  the  hero. 

"  '  In  order  to  create  a  proper  feeling  among  the  sober 
classes,  I  loaned  about  fifteen  black  coats,  bought  as  many 
white  chokers,  and  dressed  up  fifteen  fellers  in  'em,  to  look 
like  parsons,  and  put  'em  in  the  most  conspicuous  part  of  the 
house ;  and  thus  we  managed  to  hook  in  all  the  clergy  and 
Christian  soft-mouths.  The  piece  drew  all  h — 1 ;  we  played 
it  sometimes  four  times  a  day — on  Christmas  Day  we 
played  it  six  times,  beginning  at  nine  in  the  morning.' " 

No  one  who  knows  Mr.  Kimball  will  believe  this,  nor  what 
follows.  We  omit  the  profanity  which  he  puts  into  the 
manager's  mouth : — 

"  Here  I  rose  to  take  my  leave.  '  Wait  a  minute — I'll  tell 
yer  what  I  did  wi'  yer  !  That  *  Bohemian  Gal '  o'  yourn— 
didn't  we  go  ahead  wi'  her  ?  I  kept  in  all  the  situations, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  351 

sent  the  music  to  smash,  threw  in  a  couple  of  Dromios  for  my 
low  comedians,  and  away  we  went  like  fun !' 

"  Wfc  literally  shrieked  with  laughter  when  he  added :  '  Ay 
and  I  shall  do  the  same  with  your  Enchantress,  if  I  can  pick 
up  a  couple  of  funny  chaps.' 

"  I  naturally  asked  him  how  much  he  paid  per  annum  for 
his  literature,  when  he  answered :  '  About  twelve  and  a  half 
cents  every  packet  that  arrives.  I  get  all  the  last  pieces  from 
England — the  cheap  editions  as  Lacy  publishes ;  and  as  soon 
as  they  come  to  hand,  I  and  Smith,  and  the  box-office  feller, 
set  to  work,  and  lick  a  bad  piece  into  good  shape  in  no 
time !'  " 


PETER  CARTWRI6HT. 

THE  great  Western  preacher  has  arrived  and  is  now 
searching  the  well-thumbed  Bible  for  his  text.  Quite  a 
number  of  distinguished  divines  are  present.  The  preacher 
looks  like  a  backwoodsman,  whose  face  has  been  bronzed 
at  the  plough.  His  black  hair,  straggling  seven  ways 
for  Sunday,  is  slightly  tinged  with  the  frost  of  age.  A 
strip  of  black  silk  is  twisted  around  his  neck,  and  a  shirt  col 
lar,  scrupulously  clean,  is  turned  down  over  it.  He  is  of  ordi 
nary  size,  dresses  plainly,  and  looks  like  a  man  perfectly  free 
from  affectation.  In  a  faltering  voice  he  reads  a  hymn.  The 
choir  wed  the  words  to  sweet  and  solemn  music,  a  fervent 
prayer  goes  up  on  the  wings  of  faith — another  hymn  is  read 


352  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

and  sung — the  12th  verse  of  the  llth  chapter  of  Matthew  it 
selected  for  his  text.  Now  the  old  pioneer  preacher,  who  has 
waded  swaraps,  forded  rivers,  threaded  forest,  travelled  with 
Indians,  fought  with  bears  and  wolves,  preached  in  the  woods 
and  slept  in  the  field  or  on  the  prairie  at  night,  is  standing 
before  us.  Look  at  him,  ye  gentlemen  with  white  neckcloths 
and  black  coats,  who  ride  in  carriages  over  smooth  roads  to 
supply  churches  with  cushioned  pews  and  soft  benches  to 
kneel  on.  How  would  you  like  to  labor  for  nothing  among 
wild  beasts,  and  board  yourselves,  in  a  climate  where  the  ague 
shakes  the  settlers  over  the  grave  two-thirds  of  the  year? 
Would  you  exchange  your  fat  livings,  and  fine  palaces,  and 
unread  libraries  for  black  bread  and  dry  venison,  a  log  hut 
and  the  society  of  bears  and  blue-racers?  God  bless  the 
brave,  wise,  and  good  men  to  whom  we  are  so  much  indebted 
for  the  blessings  we  enjoy. 

He  says  he  would  make  an  apology  if  he  thought  it 
would  enable  him  to  preach  better,  for  he  is  afflicted  with  a 
severe  cold.  "  Some  folks,"  said  he,  "  say  I  am  fifty  years 
behind  the  age.  God  knows,"  he  continued,  "  I  am  willing  to 
be  a  thousand  behind  such  an  age.  Religion  is  always  of  age, 
and  can  talk  and  run  without  stilts  or  silver  slippers."  He 
concluded  an  able  and  interesting  discourse,  which  elicited 
undivided  attention,  with  the  following  fact.  "  During  a 
splendid  revival  of  religion  at  the  west,  a  young  preacher, 
manufactured  in  one  of  your  theological  shops  out  here, 
came  to  lend  a  helping  hand.  I  knew  he  could  not  handle 
Methodists'  tools  without  cutting  his  fingers,  but  he  was  very 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  353 

officious.  Well,  we  had  a  gale,  a  Pentecostal  gale,  and 
sinners,  fell  without  looking  for  a  soft  place,  and  Christians 
fought  the  devil  on  their  knees.  Well,  this  little  man  would 
tell  those  who  were  groaning  under  conviction,  to  be 
composed.  I  stood  this  as  long  as  I  could,  and  finally  sent 
him  to  speak  with  a  great,  stout,  athletic  man  who  was 
bellowing  like  a  bull  in  a  net,  while  I  tried  to  undo  the 
mischief  he  had  done  to  others.  He  told  this  powerful  man 
to  be  composed,  but  I  told  him  to  pray  like  thunder — just  at 
that  instant,  the  grace  of  God  shone  in  upon  his  soul  and  he 
was  so  delirious  with  delight,  he  seized  the  little  man  in  his 
hands  and  holding  him  up,  bounded  like  a  buck  through  the 
congregation." 

It  is  impossible  for  the  pen  to  do  justice  to  this  fact.  The 
speaker  moved  us  all  to  tears  and  smiles  at  the  same  moment 
while  he  said  what  few  men  should  venture  to  say. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  once  put  up  at  the  Irving 
House,  N.  Y.,  (if  I  am  correctly  informed)  and  when  he 
wished  to  retire  at  night,  one  of  the  waiters  lighted  him  to  a 
room  near  the  roof  of  that  mountain  of  marble  and  mortar. 

"  How  shall  I  find  the  way  back  ?"  inquired  the  preacher. 

"  Oh  just  ring  the  bell  and  we  will  show  you,"  said  the 
waiter. 

By  the  time  the  waiter  reached  the  bar-room,  tingle,  tingle 
went  the  bell,  the  waiter  climbed  five  or  six  flights  of  stairs 
and  asked  what  was  wanted. 

"Show  me  the  way  down,"  said  Mr.  Cartwright.  The 
waiter  did  so.  "  Now  show  me  the  way  up  again ;"  he  did  so. 


354  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

but  he  had  scarcely  reached  the  reception  room  when  the  bell 
rang  again.  This  time  the  landlord  went  up  stairs  to  see 
what  the  matter  was. 

"  I  want  a  broad-axe,"  said  the  preacher. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  a  broad-axe  ?"  inquired  tho 
astonished  landlord. 

"  I  want  to  blaze  my  way  down  stairs,"  was  the  cool  reply. 

The  landlord  took  the  hint  and  gave  the  frontier  preacher 
a  room  on  the  first  floor. 

A  foul-mouthed  infidel  once  attacked  him  on  board  of  a 
boat  on  the  Western  waters.  Mr.  Cartwright  submitted 
quietly  to  his  profanity,  vulgarity  and  obscenity  for  a  long 
time.  Finally,  he  approached  the  gaseous  sceptic  with  a  stern 
face,  and  with  a  voice  of  a  stentor  said,  "  if  you  do  not  take 
back  what  you  have  said,  I  will  baptize  you  in  this  river  in 
the  name  of  your  father  the  devil." 

The  infidel  at  once  apologized  and  saved  himself  a  duck 
ing. 

The  other  day  some  member  of  the  Conference  suggested 
that  some  act  should  be  done  out  of  courtesy.  This 
announcement  brought  the  old  gentleman  to  his  feet — and  he 
said,  "  I  do  not  know  what  you  gentlemen  at  the  East  think 
of  courtesy,  but  we  out  West,  who  were  born  in  a  cane-brake 
— cradled  in  a  gum-tree — and  who  graduated  in  a  thunder 
storm,  don't  think  much  of  modern  etiquette." 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  35* 


ANSON  BURLINGAME. 

HON.  ANSON  BURLINGAME  was  born  in  1822.  When  a 
mere  child  he  was  sent  to  the  Far  West,  where  he  remained 
many  years.  He  was  educated  at  the  Branch  University  of 
Michigan,  and  studied  law  at  Cambridge.  It  was  his  intention 
to  return  to  the  broad,  free  West,  but  being  susceptible  of  the 
tender  passion,  he  was  detained  by  a  beautiful,  accomplished 
and  wealthy  lady,  the  daughter  of  Hon.  Isaac  Livermore, 
Cambridge,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  such  a  rare  acqui 
sition  to  New  England  society. 

Mr.  Burlingame  is  probably  the  truest  representative  we  have 
cf  the  "  Young  America"  being  enterprising,  eloquent,  pro 
gressive,  persevering,  industrious,  and  independent.  A 
speech  he  made  in  Faneuil  Hall,  when  he  was  stumping  the 
district  for  Congress,  abounds  in  thrilling  bursts  of  eloquent 
patriotism,  the  reading  of  which  without  the  kindling  soul  of 
the  speaker,  even  moves  the  blood  like  the  blast  of  a  trumpet. 
In  alluding  to  the  rendition  of  Sims,  I  can  only  quote  a  sen*- 
tence  or  two;  he  remarks:  "It  does  not  pay,  I  submit,  to  put 
our  fellow  citizens  under  practical  martial  law,  to  beat  the 
drum  in  our  streets,  to  clothe  our  temples  of  justice  in 
chains,  and  to  creep  along  by  the  light  of  the  morning  star 
over  the  ground  wet  with  the  blood  of  Crispus  Attucks,  the 
noble  colored  man  who  fell  in  King  street,  before  the  mus- 


356  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

kets  of  tyranny,  away  in  the  dawn  of  our  Revolution ;  creep 
by  Faneuil  Hall,  silent  and  dark;  by  the  Green  Dragon,  where 
that  noble  mechanic,  Paul  Revere,  once  mustered  the  sons  of 
liberty;  within  sight  of  Prospect  Hill,  where  was  first  unfurled 
the  glorious  banner  of  our  country ;  creep  along  with  funeral 
pace,  bearing  a  brother,  a  man  made  in  the  image  of  his  God, 
— not  to  the  grave — Oh,  that  were  merciful,  for  in  the  grave 
there  is  no  work  and  no  device,  and  the  voice  of  a  master  never 
comes — but  back  to  the  degradation  of  a  slavery  which  kills 
out  of  a  living  body  an  immortal  soul.  [Great  sensation.] 
Oh,  where  is  the  man  now  who  took  part  in  that  mournful 
transaction,  who  would  wish,  looking  back  upon  it,  to  avow  it? 
It  did  not  make  a  President,  it  did  not  give  a  tariff,  it  did  not 
increase  the  business  of  Boston  a  single  dime." 

In  speaking  of  the  importance  of  public  improvements,  he 
pays  the  following  glowing  and  merited  compliment  to  the 
West: 

"  The  necessity  of  these  improvements  we  have  in  the  great 
loss  of  property  every  year,  and  oh,  if  the  dead  could  speak — 
if  those  who  have  gone  beneath  the  turbulent  waters  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  the  stormy  lakes,  could  give  their  testimony, 
what  evidence  should  we  have  of  their  necessity !  The  West 
has  been  neglected  in  this  respect.  When  its  forests  blazed 
with  battle  fires,  when  the  scythe  of  death  hung  upon  its  bor 
ders,  it  received  but  grudging  aid ;  but  still  its  sons  have  been 
loyal ;  they  have  met  every  trial  and  every  danger  without 
repining ;  and  when  their  country,  which  had  neglected  them, 
was  assailed,  seeing  in  her  but  the  stern  mother  they  should 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  357 

cherish,  they  were  the  first  in  the  field,  and  under  the  gallant 
Jackson  and  Taylor,  and  Harrison  and  Scott,  they  crowded 
the  way  to  death  as  to  a  festival." 

Here  is  an  extract  which  forcibly  reminds  one  of  the  style 
which  characterises  the  school  of  Young  America.  "  My  hope 
is  that  t  may  live — and  I  believe  I  shall,  to  see  the  day  when 
no  foreign  drum-beat  shall  be  heard  on  the  American  conti 
nent  [great  applause]  ;  when  the  feet  of  no  foreign  soldier  shall 
tread  its  sacred  soil  [renewed  cheers]  ;  when  no  man  will  have 
to  say  on  what  particular  point  he  dwells,  to  indicate  his 
nationality ;  but  when  the  proud  title  of  American  citizen  shall 
be  an  assurance  all  over  the  world  that  he  is  a  member  of  this 
Western  Republic,  so  that  its  gorgeous  banner  shall  wave  its 
protection  over  him,  not  only  on  the  shores  of  the  distant 
Pacific,  in  the  delta  of  the  Mississippi,  on  the  coral  reefs  of 
Florida,  but  from  the  bastions  of  Quebec,  in  the  Bay  of  Cha- 
leur,  on  the  banks  of  the  Chaudiere,  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  the 
Ottawa."  The  following  impromptu  remarks  have  been  much 
admired.  He  was  speaking  of  Mr.  Webster,  when  some  one 
in  the  audience  said,  "  Mr.  W.  is  ill."  "  My  friend  exclaims,  Mr. 
Webster  is  ill.  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it.  Indeed  my  soul  was 
saddened  this  afternoon  when  there  came  tidings  from  Marsh- 
field  that  soon  the  angel  of  death  might  flutter  his  dark  wing 
over  the  mansion  of  the  great  New  England  statesman. 
[Sensation  and  deep  silence.]  The  cares  of  life  are  over  for 
him ;  the  hurly  burly  of  this  night,  in  the  street^  of  Boston, 
and  the  political  storm  now  raging  over  the  country,  will  not 
disturb  his  lolemn  reflections.  I  pause  at  the  bedside  of  death. 


358  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

No  word  shall  escape  my  lips  here  to-night  to  wound  on« 
friend  of  his."     [Increased  sensation.] 

The  indignant  pathos  of  the  following  is  unexcelled  by  any 
equal  number  of  words  in  our  language. 

"  I  ask  you  if  glorious  Rantoul  did  more  than  this  ?  Did  he 
more  than  differ  from  his  party  on  that  single  question  of  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Bill  ?  Was  he  not  hunted  from  convention 
to  convention  even  unto  premature  death,  and  even  now  his 
vile  assassins  drive  their  daggers  deep  down  into  his  new 
made  grave  ?  But,  thank  God,  his  lofty  spirit  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  their  miserable  malice,  and  his  reputation  is  in  the 
hands  of  those  who  loved  him  while  living,  and  who  cherish 
his  memory  now  he  is  gone." 

The  spirit  of  Young  America  breathes  again  in  this  quotation 
from  Mr.  Burlingame's  Northampton  speech. 

"  We,  the  sons  of  the  Pilgrims,  who  are  knolled  to  church 
from  the  cradle  to  the  grave — who  drink  in  learning  and 
liberty  with  the  air  and  the  light — who  hew  through  moun 
tains  ;  chain  the  brawling  rivers,  and  curb  the  whelming  ocean 
itself;  it  is  expected  that  we  are  to  leave  our  grand  employ 
ments,  and  put  ourselves  under  the  command  of  negro-drivers, 
who  cannot  sit  at  an  honorable  planter's  table,  and  that  we 
will  chase  men,  women,  and  children  over  the  graves  of  our 
fathers." 

Although  Mr.  B.  does  not  court  the  Muses,  they  are  evidently 
in  love  with  him,  indeed  there  is  a  rich  vein  of  poetry  running 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  359 

through  all  his  lectures  and  speeches.  What  can  be  more 
beautiful  and  poetical  than  the  following  gem  taken  from  an 
oration  delivered  in  New  London,  Connecticut. 

"  Mr.  Webster  is  the  only  survivor  of  that  illustrious  trio  of 
statesmen, 

Who  shook  the  nation  through  their  lips,  and  blazed 
Till  vanquished  Senates  trembled  as  they  praised. 

"  One  sleeps  this  beautiful  day,  in  the  sweet  shade  of  the 
magnolia's  blossoms — his  great  heart  is  still,  and  quenched  is 
the  light  of  his  glorious  eye  for  ever.  Another  and  fit  companion 
of  the  great  South  Carolinian  fell  but  yesterday  on  the  field  of 
his  fame,  and  now,  cold  and  dead,  is  borne  on  his  bier  through 
a  weeping  nation,  back  to  the  generous  soil  of  old  Kentucky, 
there  to  sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking.  The  orator, 
the  chivalric  gentleman,  and  noble  friend,  is  beyond  the  reach 
of  malice  or  of  praise — never  again  shall  he  rouse  us  with  his 
bugle  blasts,  nor  melt  us  into  tenderness  by  the  touching  mel 
ody  of  his  voice.  And  he,  of  the  imperial  intellect, 

'  With  the  Athenian's  glowing  style,  and  Tully's  fire,' 

wanders,  companionless  and  alone,  by  the  deep  sea  he  loves 
so  well — gazing,  with  his  great  eyes,  toward  '  that  undis 
covered  country,  from  whose  bourne  no  traveller  returns.' 
Oh !  long  may  he  live — and  may  the  refreshing  breezes  fan 
his  brow  and  bring  back  the  roses  of  health  to  his  fading 
cheeks. 

"  I  refer  thus  to  these  great  Americans,  not  to  conciliate 


360  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

their  friends — not  as  a  partizan ; — no !  no ! — let  the  bugle* 
of  party  this  day  sound  a  truce — but  in  obedience  to  the 

'  Echoes  that  <rtart, 
When  memory  plays  an  old  tune  on  the  heart,' 

I  could  not  better  illustrate  the  glory  of  our  institutions  than 
by  reference  to  these  great  men,  their  noblest  offspring." 

I  cannot  do  justice  to  the  young  man's  eloquence  within  the 
narrow  limits  of  such  a  sketch  as  this,  for  I  might  quote  a 
volume  of  beautiful  extracts  without  exhausting  the  material. 

The  H«n.  Anson  Burlingame  is  about  five  feet  eight  inches 
in  height,  and  well  formed;  has  dark  brown  hair,  usually 
brushed  smooth  as  the  wing  of  a  bird ;  broad,  white  forehead, 
indicating  strength  of  intellect;  light-grey  magnetic  eyes 
and  fair  complexion ;  is  naturally  gentle  and  generous,  with 
impulse  and  intellect  pretty  evenly  balanced.  He  possesses  the 
true  vivida-vis  of  eloquence.  His  style  is  what  may  be  termed 
poetical,  and  yet  he  displays  a  good  degree  of  terseness  and 
conciseness ;  is  sparing  of  uniting  particles  and  introductory 
Erases,  usually  employs  the  simplest  forms  of  construction. 
No  young  man  of  his  age  in  New  England  has  appeared  before 
the  masses  so  frequently  as  he.  No  man  of  his  years  has  a 
sunnier  prospect  before  him. 

I  have  elsewhere  said  that  Mr.  B.  is  a  poet.  I  do  not  charge 
him  with  perpetrating  verses,  but  there  are  poetic  pearls  glit 
tering  here  and  there  in  all  his  public  efforts.  The  ethereal 
tone  and  harmonious  construction  of  his  sentences,  the  strange 
imaginings  that  make  fancy  mount  upward  on  her  rainbow- 
tinted  pinions — show  that  ideality  sits  close  by  the  throne  of 


OUT-HAND    TAKINGS.  36 1 

reason,  and  reigns  conjointly  with  causality  over  the  realm  of 
intellect.  His  designs  are  never  clumsy,  his  pictures  are  nevei 
coarse  ;  his  opinions,  however  unpopular,  are  never  offensively 
thrust  before  his  opponents,  although  he  is  known  to  be  an 
unflinching  advocate  of  freedom,  an  uncompromising  hater  of 
slavery.  He  can  be  mild  "  as  honey  dew  or  the  milk  of  para 
dise,"  or  vehement  and  volcanic  as  though  his  veins  were  filled 
with  lightning.  His  chief  fault  consists  in  an  over  sensitive 
ness  with  respect  to  the  opinions  of  others,  though  he  is  always 
true  in  the  trial  hour.  What  does  the  multitude  think  and 
say  about  me  I  Shall  I  perpetrate  an  offence  against  my  friend 
by  adopting  and  adhering  to  such  a  set  of  sentiments  ? — are 
questions  that  may  never  have  been  stereotyped  into  words 
upon  his  lips,  but  the  writer  is  much  mistaken  if  they  have 
not  weighed  heavily  upon  his  heart.  As  he  grows  older,  he 
will  become  wiser,  and  learn  to.  lightly  estimate  the  hastily 
formed  views  of  the  multitude  or  the  mob.  For  the  plaudits 
of  the  people  to-day,  may  be  exchanged  for  the  "  crucify  him" 
of  to-morrow.  Mr.  B.  is  a  candidate  for  congressional  honors, 
and  ere  many  years  he  will  be  rewarded  with  a  seat  in  the 
highest  council  chamber  of  our  country.  He  has  already  been 
elected  to  the  Massachusetts  Senate,  from  the  great  county  of 
Middlesex,  receiving  about  twelve  thousand  votes.  He  was  the 
youngest  member  of  the  senate.  He  now  enjoys  th  honor  of 
having  been  elected  according  to  the  borough  sys  em  of 
England,  out  of  the  place  of  his  residence,  as  was  Hon.  Charles 
Surnner,  R.  H.  Dana,  junior,  and  a  very  few  others,  to  a  seat  in 

the  Convention  to  revise  the  Constitution  of  the  State.     I  will 

16 


362  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

conclude  this  sketch  with  the  following  beautiful  extract,  taken 
from  his  celebrated  speech  delivered  at  the  State  Convention 
at  the  city  of  Worcester.  It  speaks  for  itself,  and  needs  nc 
comments  from  my  pen. 

"  And  now,  thanking  you  for  the  kind  manner  in  which  you 
have  listened  to  me,  I  must  take  my  leave.  ['  Go  on !  go  on  !'] 
No  !  I  must  not  go  on.  There  are  worthier  here  who  should 
speak ;  to  them  I  yield — happy  indeed  that  I  have  witnessed 
this  day.  My  heart  is  warmer  for  it.  My  step  shall  be  freer 
and  prouder.  I  shall  take  away  in  my  memory  the  melody 
of  the  eloquence  I  have  heard,  and  the  light  of  the  faces  I  have 
seen.  [Cheers.]  I  shall  go,  determined  to  do  in  the  future, 
all  I  can  for  the  great  cause  we  have  at  heart — to  struggle  for 
the  true  glory  of  our  country,  ever  mindful  that  though  it  has 
the  sin  of  slavery  upon  it,  it  is  still  the  freest  in  the  world ; 
yes,  the  freest  in  the  world.  My  feet  have  trodden  the  soil  of 
old  England,  in  whose  air  no  slave  can  breathe.  I  have  tra 
versed  the  warlike  fields  of  Germany  and  France — have  stooG 
in  the  home  of  the  glacier,  and  gazed  down  with  full  heart 
upon  the  first  altars  of  Liberty ;  and  heard  the  cannon  of 
tyranny  thunder  from  San  Angelo  in  the  land  of  the  old  Roman 
eagles.  But  nowhere  did  I  find  .so  free  a  people,  and  so  happy 
a  people,  as  in  this  my  own,  my  native  land.  [Great  enthusi 
asm.]  And  my  earnest  hope  is,  that  the  time  may  soon  come, 
when  the  sun,  which  is  now  dipping  its  broad  rim  behind  yon 
western  hills,  in  all  this  land — from  north  to  south,  from  sea 
to  sea — shall  not  "  rise  upon  a  master,  or  set  upon  a  slave.* 
[Tremendous  applause.] 


3-Yel~by  j.  c. B 


E  (S>  G&  (S 


363  OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


GEORGE  LAW. 

IN  sketching  the  celebrated  George  Law,  I  am  tempted  tc 
indulge  in  alliteration,  at  the  expense  of  the  rules  of  rhetoric, 
but  that  is  of  little  consequence,  since  I  am  writing  oft-hand 
takings  and  not  elaborate  essays.  George  Law,  then,  is  the 
Titan  of  traders,  the  colossus  of  contractors— the  mastodon  of 
men.  He  is  upwards  of  six  feet  in  height,  and  of  perfect  pro 
portions,  with  physical  strength  to  match  his  Herculean  frame. 
This  American  Anak  has  not  only  the  power  of  a  giant  and 
the  voice  of  a  Stentor,  but  the  eye  of  an  eagle  and  the  heart  of 
a  lion. 

He  has  vital  energy  enough  for  a  village  of  ordinary  men  ; 
and  had  he  lived  in  the  days  of  the  Ancient  Romans  or  Britons 
he  would  have  been  crowned  king.  See  how  he  sends  out 
armies  to  level  the  hills  and  fill  up  the  vales,  and  pave  our 
roads  with  iron.  See  how  he  scatters  steamboats  over  our 
waters.  There  is  nothing  small  about  the  man,  his  plans  are 
great,  his  conceptions  vast,  his  contracts  immense,  his  fortune 
princely — even  his  oaths  are  plump  and  unctuous  with  energy. 
As  Samson  carried  away  the  gates  of  Gaza  and  afterwards 
whipped  the  Philistines,  so  he  would  take  up  the  gates  of 
Cuba  and  slay  the  Spaniards  with  the  ja™ -bones  of  filibustering 
asses. 

Like  Thor  the  thunderer  he  makes  his  dent  wherever  he 
strikes,  for  he  has  force  of  intellect  as  well  as  bodily  strength, 


364  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

and  a  generous  heart  beats  in  his  broad  chest.  America  owes 
much  of  her  fame  and  wealth  to  such  men.  He  is  now  in 
the  prime  of  life,  and  having  an  iron  temperament  and  a  vast 
field  in  which  to  exert  his  incomparable  enterprise,  we  vish 
him  long  life,  and  hope  that  his  shadow  may  never  be  less 


DR.   JOHN  W.   FRANCIS. 

DR.  J.  W.  FRANCIS,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  physicians 
in  the  city  of  New  York,  is  an  excellent  and  amiable  gentle 
man  of  the  old  school,  whose  pleasant  manners  and  polite 
address  have  won  for  him  many  friends  in  the  various  walks 
of  life.  He  is  the  son  of  Melchior  Francis,  a  native  of  Ger 
many,  who  emigrated  to  this  country  shortly  after  the  peace 
of  1783.  The  subject  of  this  brief  sketch  graduated  at  Co 
lumbia  college,  in  1809,  when  he  commenced  the  study  of 
medicine,  under  the  supervision  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Hosack, 
and  afterwards  became  his  partner  in  business.  He  has  been 
a  lecturer  on  materia  medica,  professor  of  medicine  at  Rutgers 
college,  afterwards  of  obstetrics  and  forensic  medicine,  and  was 
the  first  president  of  the  New  York  Academy  of  Medicine. 
His  medical  works  have  earned  for  him  a  world-wide  reputa 
tion.  For  forty  years  he  has  been  actively  engaged  in  the 
duties  of  his  profession ;  yet  amid  the  incessant  toils  of  his 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  366 

laborious  vocation,  he  has  found  time  to  prepare  admirable 
lectures  on  various  topics.  His  name  is  identified  with  the 
history  of  the  Empire  City,  and  he  is  far  and  away  the  most 
conspicuous  man  there  of  his  profession.  A  municipal  con 
vocation  or  a  public  demonstration  involving  the  present  01 
prospective  interests  of  the  city  would  not  be  called  without 
consulting  him,  and  his  absence  from  such  a  gathering  would 
be  noticed  and  deplored  by  his  vast  army  of  friends. 


DOCTOR  S.  II.  COX. 

DOCTOR  Cox,  the  Christian  gentleman  whom  the  most  devo 
ted  Christians  delighted  to  honor,  the  mighty  man  whose  praise 
was  in  all  the  churches — ventured  to  speak  and  write  against 
American  sins.  At  this  time  Doctor  Cox  was  among  his 
cotemporaries  (a  few  excepted)  what  Saul  was  among  the 
Hebrews,  a  head  and  shoulder  the  tallest,  and  the  pulpit 
was  a  proper  pedestal  for  such  a  noble  statue.  His  sermons 
were  sparkling  with  truth,  beauty,  and  poetry.  He  seemed 
equally  at  home,  at  Parnassus,  or  Lebanon,  or  Calvary.  His 
words  had  wings  of  fire  and  eyes  of  flame.  Eloquence  laughed 
in  his  humor  and  sobbed  in  his  pathos.  "  The  cross  was  always 
seen  at  the  painted  window  of  his  imagination."  He  was  the 
people's  preacher,  the  defender  of  the  down-trodden,  a  bright 
light  on  a  golden  candlestick.  *But  where  is  he  now  ?  His 
late  sermon  in  defence  of  the  lower  law  has  the  gloss  of  silkf 


366  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

while  in  reality  it  is  more  than  half  cotton.  Is  he  so  tired  of 
his  former  eloquence  that  he  eats  his  own  words  ?  Has  human 
ity  fewer  claims  now  than  it  had  ten  years  ago  ?  .  Has  the  truth 
undergone  a  radical  change.  No,  no.  The  mob  said  great  is 
Diana,  and  the  Doctor  said  so  she  is.  He  saw  there  was  some 
weight  in  the  arguments  that  broke  his  church  windows.  He 
once  identified  himself  with  the  friends  of  freedom ;  he  now 
turns  his  back  upon  them,  and  is  numbered  with  those  who  go 
down  to  the  South.  At  the  World's  Religious  Convention, 
he  was  pre-eminently  distinguished  for  his  world-wide  sym 
pathy — his  Christian  magnanimity — his  soul-stirring  elo 
quence — his  heaven-inspired  zeal,  and  he  would  have  been 
welcomed  ^o  any  Protestant  pulpit  in  England ;  now,  many 
Evangelical  churches  in  England  are  closed  against  him, 
Why  did  he  strip  off  his  laurels  and  sacrifice  so  much  on  such 
an  altar? 

He  became  the  Pastor  of  a  wealthy  church,  in  the  city  of 
Brooklyn ;  that  church  embraces  some  who  are  related  by 
commerce  and  consanguinity  to  the  South.  These  men  got 
on  the  blind  side  of  their  minister,  and  made  him  believe  the 
Union  was  in  danger ;  so  he  stopped  saving  souls  and  went  to 
saving  the  Union,  and  wretched  work  he  made  of  it.  His 
effort  was  a  failure.  His  heart  was  not  in  it.  He  has  too 
much  light  in  his  brain,  and  too  much  grace  in  his  heart,  to 
do  his  talents  justice,  when  he  assails  the  "higher  law." 
With  regard  to  the  Doctor's  style,  it  is  more,  radiant  than 
profound — it  has  more  glitter  than  depth — besides  he  makes 
an  egotistical  display  of  his  Greek  and  Latin.  He  lacks 


OFF-HAND  TAKINGS.  36*7 

concentrativeness,  and  cannot  reason  acutely  and  consecu 
tively.  His  work  entitled  Quakerism  not  Christianity,  was  a 
weakling  at  its  birth,  and  never  will  be  able  to  run  alone.  I 
doubt  if  it  has  reached  a  second  edition.  He  sometimes 
preaches  in  blank  verse,  and  since  he  is  not  John  Milton,  his 
sermons  sound  better  than  they  read.  Doctor  Cox  is  upwards 
of  sixty  years  of  age — a  noble,  dignified  looking  man — with 
a  magnificent  head,  and  eyes  of  starlike  brilliance.  He  speaks 
rapidly,  notwithstanding  an  impediment,  and  in  bis  palmiest 
days  he  spoke  with  so  much  force,  he  seemed  sometimes  to 
split  the  words  in  which  he  clad  his  thoughts.  Few  men 
have  uttered  so  many  brilliant  thoughts  as  he ;  many  of  his 
wise  sayings  have  passed  into  proverbs.  He  has  more  than 
a  common  store  of  originality — extraordinary  power  of  elo 
quence,  compresses  a  great  deal  of  meaning  into  a  few  words, 
but  he  is  not  a  metaphysician.  He  is  a  comet  of  the  largest 
magnitude,  sweeping  through  the  heavens,  and  not  a  fixed 
star.  He  is  remarkable  for  his  excellent  social  qualities — a 
great  favorite  with  those  with  whom  he  is  intimately  acquain 
ted. 


368  fRAvmsr    SKETCHES.    AND 


FREEMAN  iiuiTf. 

THE  other  day  I  called  to  see  a  friend,  and  found  him  con 
versing  with  the  indefatigable  Freeman  Hunt,  the  enterprising 
editor  of  the  Merchant's  Magazine.  The  thought  immediately 
occurred  to  me  that  he  deserved  a  sketch.  Mr.  Hunt  is  one 
of  the  most  persevering  and  energetic  men  in  this  country. 
Prior  to  the  publication  of  that  indispensable  organ  of  commer 
cial  news,  he  was  poor  and  involved  in  debt,  but  the  idea  occur 
red  to  him,  that  a  first  class  monthly,  devoted  to  the  interests 
of  merchants,  traders,  &c.,  was  needed — that  it  would  be  appre 
ciated  and  sustained  by  the  mercantile  men  of  our  country. 
He  did  not  flood  the  land  with  promising  prospectuses — nor 
cover  the  walls  of  our  public  buildings  with  huge  handbills, 
announcing  his  intentions  to  the  gaping  and  gazing  crowd,  who 
avail  themselves  of  the  lazy  leisure  at  their  disposal,  to  read 
such  gaseous  productions;  but  like  a  man  of  forecast  and 
action,  he  went  to  work,  not  by  proxy,  sending  mealy-mouthed 
agents  here  and  there,  but  personally,  and  visited  many  of  the 
merchant  princes  of  New  York,  to  whom  he  explained  in  a 
manly  and  straightforward  manner  what  he  designed  to  do. 
They,  like  wise  and  generous  men,  as  many  of  them  are, 
seconded  his  resolution  and  unhesitatingly  endorsed  his  sub 
scription  list.  When  he  had  made  a  good  beginning  in  the 


OFF-HAM D    TAKINGS.  369 

Empire  city,  lie  visited  Boston,  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  and 
other  cities,  where  his  exertions  were  crowned  with  success. 
Now  look  at  the  fruit  of  his  labor.  He  first  originated  the 
idea  of  starting  such  a  journal,  he  next  procured  the  list  of 
subscribers  requisite  to  sustain  it,  he  then  assumed  the  editorial 
management  of  it,  and  he  now  commands  an  influence  of  which 
a  prince  might  well  be  proud,  and  has  an  income  sufficient  to 
satisfy  the  demands  of  his  constantly  increasing  business.  Mr. 
Hunt  is  a  man,  a  noble  man,  a  reliable  man,  who  never  forgets  a 
friend,  and  never  fails  to  recognise  him,  whenever  or  wherever 
he  meets  him ;  for  this  reason,  as  well  as  many  others,  the  writer 
is  glad  to  see  him  prosper.  Mr.  Hunt  is  not  only  a  very  ener 
getic  and  determined  man,  but  a  man  of  exquisite  sensibilities 
and  cultivated  taste. 

His  statistics  of  trade  show  that  he  possesses  unfaltering 
industry — his  elaborate  essays  prove  that  he  wields  the  pen  of 
a  powerful  writer.  No  well  appointed  counting-room  should  be 
without  his  invaluable  magazine ;  indeed,  his  list  of  subscribers 
and  corps  of  contributors  will  not  suffer  in  comparison  with 
those  of  any  in  the  United  States  or  the  world.  He  is  pre 
eminently  a  practical  man,  of  broad  understanding,  a  wise 
knowledge  of  mankind,  and  great  tact,  governed  by  extraordi 
nary  talents. 

N.  P.  Willis,  speaking  of  him,  says : 

"Hunt  has  been  glorified  in  the  Hong-Kong  Gazette,  i? 
regularly  complimented  by  the  English  mercantile  authorities, 
has  every  bank  in  the  world  for  an  eager  subscriber,  every 
consul,  every  ship-owner,  and  navigator;  is  filed  away  ai 

16* 


370  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

authority  in  every  library,  and  thought  of  in  half  the  countries 
of  the  world,  as  early  as  number  three,  in  their  enumeration  of 
distinguished  Americans ;  yet  who  seeks  to  do  him  honor  in 
the  city  he  does  honor  to  ? 

"The  Merchant's  Magazine,  though  a  prodigy  of  perse  veranco 
and  industry,  is  not  an  accidental  development  of  Hunt's  ener 
gies.  He  has  always  been  singularly  sagacious  and  original  in 
devising  new  works  and  good  ones.  He  was  the  founder  of 
the  first  Lady's  Magazine,  of  the  first  Children's  Periodical ; 
he  started  the  American  Magazine  of  Useful  and  Entertaining 
Knowledge,  compiled  the  best  known  collection  of  American 
anecdotes,  and  is  an  indefatigable  writer — the  author,  among 
other  things,  of  "Letters  about  the  Hudson."  Hunt  was  a 
play-fellow  of  ours  in  round-jacket  days,  and  we  have  always 
looked  at  him  with  a  reminiscent  interest.  His  luminous, 
eager  eyes,  as  he  goes  along  the  street  keenly  bent  on  his  errand, 
would  impress  any  observer  with  an  idea  of  his  genius  and 
determination,  and  we  think  it  is  quite  time  his  earnest  head 
was  in  the  engraver's  hand,  and  his  daily  passing  by  a  mark  for 
the  digite  monstrari 

I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  copy  from  the  writings  of  Edgar 
A.  Poe  the  following  sketch  of  his  personal  character  and 
appearance. 

"  He  is  earnest,  eager,  combining,  in  a  very  singular  man 
ner,  general  coolness  and  occasional  excitability.  He  is  g 
true  friend,  and  the  enemy  of  no  man.  His  heart  is  full  of 
the  warmest  sympathies  and  charities.  No  one  in  New  York 
is  more  universally  popular.  He  is  about  five  feet,  eight  inches 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  371 

in  height,  well  proportioned,  complexion  dark  florid ;  forehead 
capacious,  chin  maseive  and  projecting,  indicative  (according  to 
Lavater  and  general  experience),  of  that  energy  which  is,  in 
fact,  the  chief  point  in  his  character ;  hair  light  brown,  very 
fine,  of  a  web-like  texture,  worn  long  and  floating  about  the 
face ;  eyes  of  wonderful  brilliancy  and  intensity  of  expression ; 
the  whole  countenance  beaming  with  sensibility  and  intelli 
gence.  He  is  married,  and  about  thirty-eight  years"  of  age." 

Poe's  sketch  was  written  about  six  or  seven  years  ago,  and 
Mr.  Hunt  must  have  grown  so  much  older,  although  there  are 
no  indications  of  it  in  his  face  or  form.  He  is  now  in  the  prime 
of  life,  ripe  with  experience,  with  his  natural  force  unabated,  as 
the  elasticity  of  his  step,  the  vigor  of  his  pen,  the  magic  of 
his  voice,  and  the  magnetism  of  his  countenance  bear  ample 
testimony. 


372  CRAYON    SKETCHES.    AND 


B.  P.  SHILLABER. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  popularity  of  Mrs.  Partington,  and 
the  deep  interest  manifested  by  the  masses  in  her  present  and 
prospective  happiness,  there  are  but  few  individuals  who  have 
an  accurate  conception  of  her  personal  peculiarities,  her  mode 
of  dress,  her  physiognomy,  her  education,  her  habits  of  life. 

She  has  been  represented  as  an  antique  specimen  of  the 
feminine  gender  in  petticoats,  with  a  pinch  of  snuff  between 
her  thumb  and  finger,  a  pair  of  spectacles  astride  her  nose,  and 
a  mouse-colored  parasol  in  her  hand.  Now  you  and  your 
readers  will  undoubtedly  be  surprised  to  hear,  that  this  famous 
hero,  I  would  say  shero,  wears  pantaloons  instead  of  petticoats 
— a  vest  instead  of  a  visite — brogans  instead  of  bootees — ami 
a  Kossuth  hat  in  the  place  of  a  "  kiss-me-quick."  Indeed  there 
appears  to  be  more  of  the  masculine  than  the  feminine  in  her 
dress,  and  in  her  address  also.  Without  any  desire  to  test  the 
credulity  of  the  reader,  I  assure  him,  that  I  have  seen  the  veri 
table  Mrs.  Partington  late  at  night,  in  company  with  some  of 
our  city  editors,  perambulating  the  streets.  You  know  enough 
about  the  moral  character  of  such  men,  to  form  a  fair  estimate 
of  her  standing  in  that  community  without  any  hints  from  me. 
She  smokes,  drinks  soda-water,  wears  men's  clothes,  and  seems 
fond  of  the  society  of  men.  In  politics,  she  is  on  the  Post,* 
instead  of  the  fence.  She  used  to  carry  a  handsome  Carpet 

*  One  of  the  editors  of  the  Boston  Daily  Post. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  oT.'J 

Bag,*  filled   with   beautiful   things,    dry-goods,    and   jewels, 
besides  spicy  things  and  sharp  things  too  numerous  to  name. 

It  is  pretty  generally  known,  hereabouts,  at  least,  that  B.  P. 
Shillaber,  a  practical  printer  in  this  city  (Boston),  is  the  author 
of  the  quaint,  odd,  and  humorous  sayings  attributed  to  Madame 
Partington. 

Mr.  Shillaber  has,  within  a  few  years,  won  a  reputation  which 
some  lovers  of  notoriety  would  give  a  dukedom  to  possess. 
His  strange  speeches  have  been  copied  in  all  portions  of  our 
country;  they  have  crossed  the  sea  and  kindled  smiles  on  faces 
in  foreign  lands.  There  is  a  wise  and  humane  blending  of 
humor,  philosophy,  and  benevolence,  in  the  short  utterances  to 
which  this  writer  has  given  vitality,  which  entitle  him  to  a 
position  among  those  who  contribute  largely  to  the  fund  of 
human  happiness. 

Mr.  Shillaber  was  born  in  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire, 
July  12th,  1814.  His  parents  were  poor  but  respectable. 
They  educated  their  son  according  to  their  ability,  and  per 
mitted  him  to  enter  a  printing-office  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  In 
1832,  he  paid  his  first  visit  to  Boston.  He  did  not  dream  that 
he  could  write  anything  save  a  weekly  letter  to  his  parents. 
In  1847,  however,  he  made  his  debut  with  the  sobriquet  of 
Mrs.  Partington.  Soon  after  that,  he  awoke  one  fine  morning 
and  found  himself  famous.  Recently  a  volume  of  his  sayings 
and  songs  has  been  published,  to  which  I  refer  the  reader  foi 
specimens  of  his  style.  I  have  room  for  only  one  or  two  para 
graphs  of  a  later  date  than  the  book. 

*  Formerly  edited  the  Carpet  Bag. 


3H  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

"  I  don't  see,"  said  Mrs.  Partington,  yesterday,  as  Ike  came 
home  from  school,  and  threw  his  books  into  one  chair  and  his 
jacket  into  another,  and  his  cap  on  the  floor,  saying  that  he 
didn't  get  the  medal;  "I  don't  see,  dear,  why  you  didn't  get 
the  meddle,  for  certainly  a  more  meddlesome  boy  I  never  knew. 
But  no  matter;  when  the  adversary  conies  round  again,  you'll 
get  it."  What  hope  there  was  in  her  remark  for  him !  And 
he  took  courage  and  one  of  the  old  lady's  doughnuts,  and  sat 
wiping  his  feet  on  a  clean  stocking  that  the  dame  was  prepa 
ring  to  darn,  that  lay  by  her  side. 

"How  do  you  do,  dear?"  said  Mrs.  Partington,  smilingly, 
shaking  hands  with  Burbank,  in  the  Dock  square  omnibus,  as 
he  held  out  his  five  dexter  digits  towards  her.  "  Fare,  ma'am," 
said  he,  in  reply  to  her  inquiry.  "Well,  I'm  shore  I'm  glad 
of  it,  and  how  are  the  folks  at  home?"  "Fare,  ma'am,"  con 
tinued  he,  still  extending  his  hand.  The  passengers  were  inte 
rested.  "How  do  you  like  Boston?"  screamed  she,  as  the 
omnibus  rattled  over  the  stones.  "  Fare,  ma'am,"  shouted  he, 
without  drawing  back  his  hand;  "I  want  you  to  pay  me  for 
four  ride."  "  Oh,"  murmured  she,  "  I  thought  it  was  some  one 
that  knowed  me,"  and  rummaged  down  in  the  bottom  of  her 
ridicule  for  a  ticket,  finding  at  last  five  copper  cents  tied  up  in 
the  corner  of  her  handkerchief — the  "last  war"  handkerchief, 
with  the  stars  and  stripes  involved  in  it,  and  the  action  of  the 
Constitution  and  Guerriere  stamped  upon  it.  But  the  smile 
she  had  given  him  at  first  was  not  withdrawn — there  was  no 
allowance  made  for  mistakes  at  that  counter — and  he  went 
out,  with  a  lighter  heart  and  a  heavier  pocket  to  catch  t'othei 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS  875 

Mr.  Shillaber  is  a  true  poet,  and  were  he  to  write  less  and 
commune  with  nature  more,  he  would  soon  rank  in  the  first 
class  of  American  poets.  The  following  sonnet  is  worthy  of 
Wordsworth  instead  of  "Wideswarth,"  (the  nom  de  plumt 
he  recently  assumed). 

TO  AN  OLD  CANNON  BALL. 

"  Grim  messenger  of  war,  before  me  lying, 

No  more  at  thee  will  mortal  cheek  turn  pale, 
No  more  wilt  thou  with  hostile  aim  be  flying, 

A  stone  of  revolutionary  hail ; 
As  the  bright  sun  melts  up  the  icy  rain, 

That  the  black  clouds  of  summer  sometimes  pour; 
So  time  is  melting  thee  to  dust  again, 

Thou  dark  remainder  of  an  iron  shower ! 
Good  omen  this,  when  waT's  clouds  clear  away, 

And  Peace  angelic  all  our  bosoms  fills, 
That  good,  through  strife  achieved,  alone  doth  staj , 

While  rust  away,  in  sure  decay,  its  ills  ! — 
A  better  fate  is  thine,  depend  upon  it, 

Than  rusty  death — thou  livest  in  a  sonnet." 

Here  is  something  containing  less  poetry,  but  just  as  much 
truth,  and  sin'ie  this  is  one  of  the  warmest  days  in  August,  1 
mil  copy 

A  SEASONABLE  SONNET. 
When  June's  hot  sun  pours  down  in  fervid  beams — 

In  striking  beams  that  knock  a  mortal  down, 
Or  make  the  perspiration  flow  in  streams, 

In  regal  streams,  descending  from  the  crown — 
My  mind  recals  a  fat  and  jovial  one, 

A  jovial  one  that  I  did  call  my  friend, 


370  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Who  melted  on  a  timo  'neath  such  a  sun, 
'Neath  such  a  sun,  just  like  a  candle-end. 

I  saw  him  for  a  moment  stand  aloner— 
Stand  all  alone  beneath  a  hat  of  straw ; 

A  moment  more  and  on  the  sidewalk  stone — 
That  reeking  stone — my  wond'ring  visuals  sa\$ 

A  heap  of  clothes,  suspenders,  hat  and  boots, 

An  empty  wicker  flask,  and  twenty  smoked  cheroote." 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  is  in  the  prime  of  life,  a  stout,  hale, 
hearty  man,  considerably  above  the  common  stature,  with  a 
plain,  frank  face,  a  full  breast,  an  honest  heart,  and  a  head  clear 
as  crystal.  He  has  dark  hair,  is  of  the  bilious-nervous  tem 
perament,  dresses  in  a  careless  manner.  Since  he  has  become 
an  author,  however,  the  hole  in  his  coat  elbow  has  disap 
peared. 

Should  the  reader  meet  him  in  the  street,  he  would  take 
him  for  an  unsophisticated  backwoodsman,  and  not  for  one  of 
the  editors  of  one  of  the  most  influential  journals  in  the  United 
States.  He  is  genial  as  the  sunshine,  and  generous  to  a  fault 
— sensitive,  gallant,  courteous,  and  urbane. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 


BISHOP    JAMES. 

ON  Sunday  morning,  I  went  to  Dr.  Waterbury's  Church 
on  Bowdoin  street,  to  hear  the  justly  celebrated  Rev.  Bishop 
James.  The  church,  or  rather  the  building  where  the  church 
meets,  is  a  modest  and  substantial  edifice,  located  away 
from  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  business  streets.  The  sing 
ing  in  the  church  is  super-excellent,  and  the  sermon  delivered 
by  the  Bishop,  was  one  of  the  best  I  have  heard.  He  spoke  of 
the  glory  of  Heaven  in  such  glowing  language,  and  illustrated 
his  theme  with  such  appropriate  and  beautiful  imagery,  and 
sustained  his  theory  with  such  unanswerable  logic,  I  will  not 
do  him,  nor  his  sermon,  nor  the  reader  injustice  by  attempt 
ing  to  report  what  was  so  fitly  spoken.  When  words  have 
eyes,  glowing  with  emotion,  and  syllables  have  souls,  full  of 
inspiration,  reports  will  afford  more  faithful  records  of  such 
heart-stirring  sermons,  than  voiceless  paper  language  can  give 
at  the  present  time.  The  Bishop  is  probably  forty-five  years 
of  age,  of  the  nervous-bilious  temperament,  is  under  the 
common  stature,  and  has  a  womanish  voice.  He  has  a  dig 
nified  and  ministerial  look,  dresses  neatly  in  black,  with  a 
white  cravat.  He  has  a  pale,  intellectual  face ;  indeed,  the 
commonest  observer  would  say  his  countenance  indicated 
nice  tastQy  and  superior  intellectual  power. 


378  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


REV.  MR.  WADSWORTH. 

ATTRACTED  by  the  fame  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wads  worth,  I  went 
to  the  Arch  street  Church,  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  him. 
In  order  to  secure  a  seat,  I  obeyed  the  first  summons  of  the 
bell,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  exactly  the  place  that 
suited  me.  While  waiting  for  the  preacher,  I  occupied  a  short 
leisure  by  looking  at  the  building  and  those  who  came  to  wor 
ship  there.  The  church  is  a  plain,  substantial  building,  well 
windowed  for  light  during  the  day,  and  abundantly  supplied 
with  lamps  for  illumination  by  night.  Indeed  the  tall  lamps, 
on  each  side  of  the  preacher,  have  the  appearance  of  golden 
trees  with  branches  of  fire.  The  spacious  edifice  was  filled 
below  and  above  with  a  well-dressed,  good-looking,  wide-awake 
and  appreciating  audience.  The  pastor  opened  the  services 
with  a  short  prayer,  but  he  spoke  in  such  a  low  tone  of  voice, 
the  sharpest  ears  in  the  nearest  pews  could  not  understand  half 
the  words  he  uttered ;  then  followed  a  beautiful  psalm,  which 
was  better  heard — that  was  succeeded  by  a  hymn  which  was 
read  monotonously,  but  distinctly. 

I  turned  around  to  see  the  persons  to  whom  I  was  indebted 
for  such  sweet  music,  and  saw  nothing  but  an  ugly  red  curtain. 
I  do  not  like  the  fastidious  modesty  which  hides  the  choir  from 
the  congregation,  for  such  voices  as  I  heard  there  must  coma 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  379 

from  "  human  faces  divine,"  and  to  see  them  would  not  detract 
from  the  devotion  of  any  worshipper.  The  prayer  that  followed 
the  delightful  singing  was  earnest,  sincere,  heart-moving.  It 
seemed  as  though  the  pulpit  was  so  near  the  throne  of  heaven 
the  preacher  was  whispering  at  the  ear  of  God.  I  remember 
the  following  sentence,  "  Running  a  race,  fighting  a  battle,  cut 
ting  off  an  arm,  plucking  out  an  eye,  knowing  nothing,  fearing 
nothing,  obeying  nothing,  loving  nothing,  but  God."  His  text 
was  part  of  the  twenty-fifth  verse  of  the  sixteenth  chapter  of 
Luke,  "  Remember."  He  commenced  in  a  low  voice,  with  lit 
tle  or  no  gesture,  with  a  very  modest  manner,  a  very  earnest 
air,  giving  undoubted  proof  that  his  soul  was  in  his  sermon. 
It  is  quite  evident  that  he  labors  hard,  for  every  sentence  shines 
with  the  "  beaten  oil  of  the  sanctuary." 

Being  somewhat  fond  of  alliteration,  he  has  fche  art  of  wed 
ding  his  words,  so  as  to  clothe  his  thoughts  in  their  Sunday 
suits.  That  he  is  a  poet  of  the  highest  order,  and  no  second- 
rate  orator,  I  am  already  convinced,  for  notwithstanding  his 
weak,  and  I  may  add,  rather  husky  voice  (perhaps  he  has  a 
cold  to-day),  he  has  riveted  the  attention  of  his  hearers  and  stir 
red  the  great  deep  of  the  heart. 

He  warms  as  he  proceeds  in  his  discourse-,  and  raises  his 
voice,  and  in  spite  of  his  apparent  determination  not  to  move 
a  muscle,  he  begins  to  gesticulate,  jerking  his  head  backwards 
and  forwards,  suddenly  stooping  and  rising,  and  now  and  then 
extending  his  arms.  His  elocution  is  just  right  for  him,  because 
it  is  natural,  but  it  would  not  become  any  other  speaker.  Mr. 
Wadsworth  is  an  orator  endowed  with  genius  ;  he  can  dalighl 


380  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

the  fancy,  please  the  taste  with  his  exquisite  poetry,  move  the 
heart  and  rouse  the  passions  with  his  glowing  rhetoric,  and  con 
vince  the  judgment  with  his  irresistible  logioT  Now  he  points 
to  the  little  grave  under  the  sod  of  which  sleeps  "our  darling" 
child,  then  he  points  to  a  sweet  angel  with  its  throne  and  harp 
and  crown.  Now  he  uncovers  the  pit,  and  scares  us  with  its 
horrors,  then  he  withdraws  the  curtain  which  hides  Heaven 
from  our  sight,  and  shows  us  the  golden  streets  and  gleaming 
spires  of  the  New  Jerusalem.  Now  he  calls  a  victim  from  the 
dark  chambers  of  the  damned,  and  we  see  him  robed  in  a  sheet 
of  fire,  with  the  undying  worm  on  his  bosom  ;  then  he  points  to 
the  cross  which  is  planted  in  the  pathway  of  the  sinner. 

Mr.  Wadsworth  is  a  poet,  an  orator,  a  sermonizer,  a  theolo 
gian,  a  philosopher,  a  scholar.  One  of  his  chief  faults  consists 
in  giving  too  much  thought  in  one  discourse  for  the  common 
mind  to  digest.  A  good  poem  of  a  dozen  stanzas  might  have 
been  taken  out  of  the  discourse  I  heard,  and  then  there  would 
have  been  sufficient  poetry  left  to  light  up  every  sentence  with 
effulgent  beauty.  The  sermon  would  have  suited  some  better, 
if  individual  and  national  sins  had  been  specified  and  reproved. 
In  person  he  is  of  slender  build,  of  common  stature  and  hand 
some  figure.  His  hair  is  black  and  long,  forehead  full,  broad 
and  high,  showing  very  large  ideality,  comparison,  and  causal 
ity;  eyebrows  black,  eyes  expressive  of  benevolence,  nose 
straight,  mouth  classically  chiselled,  cheeks  fat,  round,  and 
pleasant ;  complexion  dark,  temperament  nervous-bilious.  He 
wears  spectacles,  dresses  neatly,  wears  no  ornaments,  save 
those  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit.  He  pronounced  the  benedio- 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  381 

(ion  in  a  whisper.  While  the  choir  was  singing  the  closing 
hymn,  I  observed  that  the  tears  flowed  freely  from  his  eyes — • 
honest  tears — tears  such  as  attest  a  man's  sincerity,  not  crocodile 
tears  for  common  exhibition.  In  ending  this  brief  sketch,  writ 
ten  on  short  notice,  the  reader  must  permit  me  to  say,  that  Mr. 
Wadsworth  is  a  man  who  seems  to  be  panting  with  poetry 
His  thoughts  bloom  up  in  spontaneous  and  brilliant  clusters. 

He  has  a  terse  way  of  wedging  a  volume  of  argument  into 
the  interstices  between  his  poetry  and  his  philosophy :  for 
instance : — "  Do  you  say  God  cannot  make  a  hell  ?  He  has 
made  a  conscience.  He  has  made  a  memory.  He  has  made 
the  soul  immortal."  He  will  never  sober  down,  for  such  men 
never  grow  old.  The  flock  must  take  care  of  their  pastor,  for 
he  will  not  take  care  of  himself,  while  he  takes  care  of  the 
flock.  As  the  people  of  his  charge  value  his  life,  let  them  see 
that  he  has  air,  and  exercise,  and  repose ;  money  enough  he 
will  be  sure  of.  What  he  needs  is  more  physical  and  less 
mental  labor. 


382  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


REV.  DR.  DURBIN. 

A  SMALL,  plain  man,  with  a  neck-cloth  white  as  snow,  and  a 
coat  black  as  a  raven's  feather,  is  sitting  in  the  desk,  supported 
on  the  left  by  the  pastor  of  the  church,  and  on  the  right  by  a  fine- 
looking  man,  whose  duke-like  countenance  is  lit  up  with  a  pair 
of  glowing  eyes.  Something  extra  is  expected,  for  the  congre 
gation  is  punctuated  with  preachers,  and  Bishop  Waugh,  with 
his  Calhoun  cast  of  figure  and  feature,  is  sitting  within  the 
railings  of  the  altar.  Every  stranger  supposes  the  magnificent 
man  on  the  right  is  the  author  of  "  Observations  in  Europe," 
the  preacher  whose  praise  is  in  all  the  churches  ;  and  they  will 
be  pleased  when  that  pale-faced  man,  with  dull  eyes  and  nar 
row  forehead,  has  got  through  with  the  opening  ceremonies,  for 
he  has  such  a  feminine  voice,  and  such  a  drawling  manner,  and 
there  is  nothing  prepossessing  in  his  features,  and  no  drawing- 
room  mannerism  in  his  gestures.  He  has  just  concluded  a  fer 
vent  prayer,  so  full  of  thought,  and  piety,  and  spirit,  it  seemed 
as  though  there  was  a  telegraphic  communication  between  the 
pulpit,  where  the  preacher  prayed,  and  the  throne  where  God 
answers  prayer.  Another  hymn  is  read  in  th»  same  monoto 
nous  manner,  by  the  same  loth-to-part  lips ;  and  now,  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  audience,  that  same  prosy  little  man  rises 
up  to  preach.  Well,  he  has  displayed  nice  ta*te  in  selecting  a 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  38-5 

part  of  the  history  of  Naaman  as  the  thesis  of  his  discourse, 
There  is  a  pudding-headed  man,  who  has  eaten  so  much  break 
fast  he  cannot  keep  awake,  he  thinks,  under  such  a  preacher, 
so  he  rests  his  head  upon  the  top  of  tb'3  pew.  In  the  mean 
time  the  preacher  proceeds,  speaking  extemporaneously,  with 
his  hands  sometimes  resting  on  the  open  Bible  before  him,  and 
sometimes  they  are  brought  together  in  the  region  of  the 
heart. 


S.  A.  60UGLAS. 

STEPHEN  ARNOLD  DOUGLAS  the  famous,  or  infamous 
United  States  Senator,  from  Illinois,  and  one  of  the  most  pro 
minent  politicians  in  the  Democratic  party — and  the  origin 
ator  of  the  Nebraska  Bill — is  a  native  of  Vermont ;  but  he 
sustains  no  relationship  whatever  to  Ethan  Allan,  or  any  of 
the  Green  Mountain  boys,  whose  names  are  crystalized  in  our 
country's  history.  He  is  a  man  of  considerable  ability,  but 
his  selfish  ambition  has  overleaped  itself,  and  his  fall  has 
rendered  him  a  political  cripple  for  life. 

He  has  been  weighed  in  the  balance  and  found  wanting  in 
political  integrity — wanting  in  his  attachment  to  liberty — 
wanting  in  his  loyalty  to  the  land  of  his  birth — wanting  in 
his  regard  for  the  welfare  of  humanity,  and  wanting  in  his 
respect  for  our  holy  Religion.  His  speeches  in  the  Senate  in 
defence  of  the  Nebraska  iniquity — his  efforts  to  break  th« 


384  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

sacred  seal  of  Compromise — his  utter  contempt  for  the  con 
tracts  of  our  fathers,  and  his  vulgar  abuse  of  the  New  Eng 
land  Clergymen,  furnish  abundance  of  proof  that  we  do  not 
speak  without  book  when  we  declare  Douglas  to  be  the  prince 
of  Demagogues. 

He  is  a  Northern  man,  whose  lungs  inhaled  the  free  ail 
of  the  verdant  mountains  of  Vermont,  but  whose  heart  never 
imbibed  the  noble  principles  of  its  patriotic  inhabitants.  He 
purchased  a  plantation  and  stocked  it  with  slaves,  to  show  his 
attachment  to  the  peculiar  institution.  He  was  instrumental 
in  banishing  the  free  blacks  from  the  State  he  misrepresents, 
that  he  might  get  Southern  voies.  Now  he  would  doom 
Nebraska  to  "  everlasting  shame  and  contempt,"  to  obtain  a 
post  of  honor  he  is  totally  disqualified  to  fill.  This  unhappy 
and  unfortunate  man  is  now  despised  by  the  North,  and  dis 
trusted  by  the  South ;  and  he  richly  merits  the  contempt  of 
all  mankind.  Why,  for  a  bauble  he  would  barter  the  rights 
of  unborn  nations.  That  he  might  be  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  he  would  enslave  the  blacks  for  ever,  in  the 
bosom  of  this  continent. 

If  the  middle  name  of  Stephen  Arnold  Douglas  could  bo 
exchanged  for  the  last,  it  would  be  most  appropriate.  Fate, 
however,  has  given  him  a  part  of  the  name  to  which  he  is 
above  all  men  living  pre-eminently  entitled.  Although  a 
man  of  some  talent,  he  has  nothing  approximating  to  genius  ; 
having  a  good  memory,  and  opportunities  for  intellectual  cul 
ture,  he  studied  industriously  and  rose  rapidly  from  a  cabinet 
maker's  apprentice  to  be  one  of  the  Judges  of  the  Supreme 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  385 

Court,  and  member  of  the  United  States  Senate,  honors  of 
which  he  might  well  be  proud,  had  he  been  true  to  freedom 
and  htfmanity.  He  has  not  been  the  faithful  exponent  of 
liberty.  He  has  not  been  a  true  friend  to  humanity. 

In  person,  he  is  short  and  thick,  with  a  broad,  dark  face, 
hazel  eyes,  high  cheek  bones,  plebeian  hands  and  feet.  He 
is  by  no  means  prepossessing,  and  his  manners  are  not  such 
as  would  become  a  court  of  fashion.  In  debate  he  is  a  bully, 
and  very  brave  when  he  fights  with  men  who  wear  white 
cravats.  He  is  pretty  sure  not  to  pick  quarrels  with  plucky 
men;  for,  although  he  thinks  very  little  of  the  rest  of  mankind, 
he  has  a  great  deal  of  regard  for  himself.  Of  his  style  of 
writing  and  speaking,  I  have  not  much  to  say.  It  is  plain, 
blunt  and  logical,  without  much  depth,  and  with  no  origin 
ality,  and  perfectly  free  from  elegance  of  diction  or  eloquence 
of  expression. 

He  has  no  poetry  in  his  composition  ;  tyrants  never  are  on 
terms  with  the  Muses.  Without  the  stature  of  a  Vermonter, 
lie  claims  to  be  the  giant  of  the  West — but  if  he  is  the  Brob- 
dignag,  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants  must  be  small  Liliputians — 
for  Douglas  is  so  little,  he  was  never  seen  until  he  made  the 
auction  block  his  platform,  or  climbed  into  notice  on  the  back 
of  a  negro.  Contrast  him  with  Sam  Houston,  his  superior  as 
much  in  mental  as  in  physical  stature.  It  is  perfectly  aston 
ishing  that  Mr.  Everett  should  have  displayed  the  white 
feather,  when  this  impertinent  little  whippersnapper  assailed 
the  three  thousand  clergymen  of  New  England.  It  is  a  pity 
that  gentleman  had  so  little  "grit,"  when  such  a  famous 

17  " 


386  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

opportunity  was  afforded  to  annihilate  the  anti-Nebraskiaa 
If  Sumner  could  have  assailed  him,  we  should  have  heard  the 
reverberation  of  his  blows  throughout  the  land.  If  Daniel 
Webster  had  been  alive,  he  would  have  made  another  speech 
equal  to  his  reply  to  Hayne. 

If  it  be  true  that  "  coming-  events  cast  their  shadows 
before,"  then  the  days  of  Douglas  are  numbered — his  politi 
cal  death-warrant  is  signed  by  the  people's  autograph — his 
political  winding-sheet  is  woven  by  the  hands  of  fate,  and  his 
political  grave  yawns  to  receive  his  remains. 


WILLIAM  GILMORE  SIMMS. 

WILLIAM  GILMORE  SIMMS,  an  American  poet,  historian  and 
novelist,  is  a  native  of  South  Carolina,  and  was  born  April 
17th,  1806.  In  consequence  of  the  premature  death  of  his 
mother  and  the  failure  of  his  father  in  business,  he  was  placed 
in  charge  of  his  grandmother  in  Charleston,  when  he  was  quite 
young.  At  first  he  designed  to  study  medicine,  but  afterwards 
determined  to  read  law,  and  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar  at 
the  age  of  twenty  one. 

He  had  practiced  his  profession  but  a  short  time  when  he 
assumed  the  editorial  management  of  a  daily  newspaper,  in 
which  he  battled  manfully  against  nullification.  In  this  enter 
prise  his  expectations  were  not  realized,  and  he  retired  from 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  ,387 

the  avocation  of  an  editor  under  a  load  of  pecuniary  embar 
rassmen-t. 

But  he  "  resolved  to  retrieve  his  fortunes,"  and  in  the  yeai 
1827,  he  made  his  authorial  debut  before  the  public,  by  issu 
ing  a  volume  of  poems.  Other  poems  speedily  followed,  but 
the  one  which  attracted  most  notice  was  "Atlantis;  a  story 
of  the  Sea."  It  met  with  a  hearty  reception,  and  elicited  en 
thusiastic  encomiums  from  the  press  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic.  In  1833,  he  published  his  first  novel,  "Martin 
Faber,"  which  was  followed  by  "Guy  Rivers,"  "Yemassee," 
"The  Partisan,"  "Mellichampe,"  " Pelayo,"  " Carl  Werner," 
"  Richard  Hurdis,"  "  The  Damsel  of  Darien,"  "  Count  Julian," 
"  Beauchamps,"  "  The  Kinsman,"  "  Katharine  Walton."  His 
principal  biographical  and  historical  works  consist  of  lives  of 
Captain  John  Smith,  General  Marion,  General  Green  and 
Chevalier  Bayard,  a  "History  of  South  Carolina."  These 
works  do  not  embrace  all  the  productions  of  his  versatile  and 
prolific  pen.  He  has  been  a  member  of  the  State  Legislature, 
and  has  won  some  renown  as  a  public  speaker.  His  literary 
reputation  procured  for  him  the  title  of  LL.  D.  He  is  one 
of  the  brightest  stars  in  the  firmament  of  American  litera 
ture. 

Mr.  Simms  has  a  vivid  imagination,  and  is  by  no  means 
deficient  in  artistic  skill.  His  language  is  frequently  faulty, 
but  that  is  undoubtedly  owing  to  the  fact,  he  writes  so 
much  he  does  not  take  time  to  revise  the  productions  of  his 
pen.  While  he  occupies  a  respectable  rank  among  the  poets 
of  America,  he  stands  at  the  head  of  that  class  of  authors  who 


388  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

entertain  us  with  light  literature.     I  have  only  room  for  the 
following  specimen  of  his  poetry. 

Well  may  we  sing  her  beauties, 

This  pleasant  land  of  ours, 
Her  sunny  smiles,  her  golden  fruits, 

And  all  her  world  of  flowers. 
The  young  birds  of  her  forest  groves, 

The  blue  folds  of  her  sky, 
And  all  those  airs  of  gentleness 

That  never  seem  to  fly. 
They  wind  about  our  forms  at  noon, 

They  woo  us  in  the  shade, 
When  panting  from  the  summer  heats, 

The  woodman  seeks  the  glade. 
They  win  us  with  a  song  of  love, 

They  cheer  us  with  a  dream 
That  gilds  our  passing  thoughts  of  life, 

As  sunlight  does  the  stream. 
And  well  would  they  persuade  us  now, 

In  moments  all  too  dear, 
That  sinful  though  our  hearts  may  be, 

We  have  our  Eden  here. 


OFF-HAND    TAKTNOB.  380 


JAMES  GORDON  BENNETT. 

JAMES  GORDON  BENNETT,  the  editor  and  proprietor  of  the 
"New  York  Herald,"  is  a  native  of  Scotland,  but  he  has 
been  so  long  connected  with  the  press  in  this  country,  he  has 
become  a  live  lion  here.  A  few  years  ago,  I  noticed  a  vast 
crowd  of  persons  in  front  of  a  fashionable  hotel  in  a  western 
city,  and  inquired  the  cause  of  such  a  convocation ;  I  was 
informed  that  James  Gordon  Bennett  had  just  arrived. 
Whether  he  be  more  notorious  than  popular,  I  will  not 
assume  the  province  of  determining,  but  will  hazard  the 
remark,  that  the  people  of  the  United  States  would  go 
farther  arid  give  more  to  see  him  than  they  would  to  see  the 
President  or  any  member  of  the  United  States  Senate. 
He  has  passed  through  various  phases  of  literary  life,  having 
been  reporter,  sub-editor,  and  editor,  and  being  now  editor 
and  proprietor  of  a  paper  broadly  circulated  all  over  this  con 
tinent  and  Europe.  While  it  undoubtedly  owes  a  part  of  its 
circulation  to  the  surpassing  ability  of  its  chief — it  is  indebted 
much  to  the  efforts  made  by  cotemporary  journals  to  crush 
it,  for  the  vast  number  of  readers  which  daily  devour  its 
contents.  While  many  deprecate  the  course  its  editor  pur 
sues  respecting  the  reforms  of  the  day,  they  cannot  fail  to 
give  him  credit  for  his  courage — and  they  must  admire  his 


390  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

genius.  Mr.  Bennett  has  acquired  an  ample  fortune;  lias 
visited  various  portions  of  the  Old  World — and  rumor  says, 
that  he  recently  gave  his  mother  a  handsome  jjhateau  in  the 
land  of  song  and  story,  where  she  resides.  In  person,  he 
is  tall  and  slender,  with  a  "  literary  stoop  "  in  his  shoulders ; 
his  head  is  covered  with  long  silvery  grey  hair,  and  his  face 
hid  behind  a  grey  goatee,  and  moustache  to  match ;  his  eyes 
are  light,  with  a  squint  in  them,  which  fact  he  notices  more 
than  any  one  else.  He  is  about  fifty-five  years  of  age ;  quick 
in  his  movements ;  and  of  a  nervous  temperament ;  he 
dresses  neatly;  and  is  very  sociable  and  pleasant  in  the 
society  of  his  friends,  although  his  pen  burns  at  the  nib,  and 
its  strokes  are  like  the  stings  of  scorpions. 


CALEB    GUSHING. 

CALEB  GUSHING  and  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  were  the 
principal  contributors  to  one  of  the  first  papers  published  at 
Newburyport,  Massachusetts.  The  former  was  a  young  attor 
ney  of  fair  talents,  with  a  good  country  practice ;  the  latter, 
a  journeyman  printer  of  superior  ability,  and  the  anonymous 
author  of  some  splendid  essays,  which  were  attributed  to  some 
of  the  most  classical  and  popular  writers  of  that  period. 
Cushing  was  a  Whig — originally,  but  being  disappointed  in 
his  aspirations,  he  resolved  not  to  drown  himself,  but  to  turn 
democrat ;  he  afterwards  became  a  coalitionist,  and  now  he  is 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  391 

a  "crusher."  He  is  a  paradoxical  politician.  He  went  to 
the  Mexican  war  and  fell  into  a  ditch,  cleaned  himself,  went 
into  office  at  Washington,  and  again  returned  to  his  wallow 
ing  in  the  mire.  He  is  an  ambitious  man,  with  his  eye  on 
the  presidential  chair,  and  will  "  stick  at  nothing  "  to  gratify 
his  ambition.  He  is  an  accomplished  scholar,  familiar  with 
several  languages,  a  perfect  gentleman  in  his  address,  has  a 
large  circle  of  friends  and  admirers,  is  personally  handsome, 
tall,  and  of  good  mould.  His  late  eulogy  on  the  death  of 
Vice-president  King,  is  an  eloquent  and  masterly  production, 
abounding  in  pathos,  and  the  most  chaste  and  beautiful 
imagery.  Although  on  the  sunny  side  of  fifty,  he  has  been  a 
judge,  a  Mexican  general,  a  member  of  Congress,  minister  to 
China,  and  is  now  Attorney- General  of  the  United  States. 


JAMES  WATSON  WEBB. 

JAMES  WATSON  WEBB,  editor  and  proprietor  of  the  "  New 
York  Courier  and  Enquirer,  was  for  many  years  the  Apollo 
of  the  press,  towering  like  a  proud  patrician  above  the  heads 
of  his  compeers : — 

"  His  fair  large  front  and  eye  sublime  declared 
Absolute  rule,  and  hyacinthine  locks 
Round  from  his  parted  forelocks  manly  hung, — 
Clustering,  but  not  beneath  his  shoulders  broad." 

Eveu  now,  his  natural  force  is  unabated ;  his  eye  has  not  losf 


392  CRAYON    SKETCHES,  AND 

its  lustre ;  his  pen  retains  its  power,  and  notwithstanding  the 
fact,  that  his  raven  hair  has  been  bleached  (more  by  thought 
than  years),  he  is  erect  and  massive  as  a  column  crowned 
with  snow.  He  is  a  soldier,  "  born  to  command,"  and  wielda 
the  pen  or  the  sword  with  equal  facility.  When  a  mere  boy 
he  ran  away  from  home,  afterwards  entered  into  military  life, 
and  became  noted  for  his  feats  of  strength  and  activity. 
Having  a  constitution  of  iron  strength,  he  was  equal  to  any 
hardship  he  had  to  encounter.  That  he  is  a  ready  writer, 
and  that  his  paper  is  the  highest  authority  in  commercial 
matters,  no  disinterested  person  qualified  to  judge  will  deny. 
He  is,  however,  of  the  silver  grey  school,  and  turns  a  cold- 
shoulder  on  the  political  and  moral  reforms  of  this  progres 
sive  age ;  a  fact  to  be  deplored,  since  his  social  position,  his 
commanding  talents,  and  his  vast  influence  with  leading  men 
would  enable  him  to  accomplish  an  incalculable  amount  of 
good,  were  he  to  side  with  the  "  radicals,"  and  stop  saving 
the  Union. 


DOCTOR  DUFFIELD. 

THE  Doctor  is  a  deep  thinker,  a  sound  reasoner,  a  logical 
but  not  an  eloquent  debater.  His  voice,  face,  and  manner  all 
denote  depth,  earnestness,  and  sincerity.  His  sermons  have 
little  poetry,  but  much  common  sense ;  few  striking  compari 
sons,  but  many  straightforward  truths;  they  do  not  shine 
with  ornaments,  but  they  are  sharp,  and  cut  deeply.  Dr 


^  OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  393 

Duffield  has  more  judgment  than  fancy,  more  power  of  con 
centration  than  power  of  origination.  He  never  sinks  down 
to  mediocrity,  and  seldom  soars  to  the  heavenly  heights  of 
impassioned  oratory.  He  has  a  heavy  stock  of  goods  oc 
hand,  and  cannot  display  them  all  at  the  front  window ; 
indeed,  he  lacks  taste,  and  is  apt  to  show  them  the  wrong 
side  out ;  I  fear  he  is  too  conservative  to  keep  pace  with  the 
strides  of  progress.  He  has  courage,  and  yet  like  the  coward 
in  a  duel,  he  chooses  to  fight  the  enemy  at  a  distance;  for 
instance,  last  Sabbath  he  attacked  the  tyrants  of  Europe,  but 
let  the  tyrants  of  America  go  unscathed. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  is  upwards  of  fifty  years  of  age ; 
of  medium  size  and  stature ;  wears  a  long,  earnest,  serious 
face  ;  has  a  square,  not  high  forehead ;  Roman  nose ;  flashing 
eyes,  and  aristocratical  chin.  He  looks  as  though  his  clothes 
had  been  put  on  his  person  by  some  one  else.  His  collar, 
unlike  his  creed,  yields  to  every  pressure,  and  his  shirt  bosom 
may  be  without  spot,  but  is  not  without  wrinkle  or  any  such 
thing.  His  coat  hangs  like  a  bag  on  his  back,  and  one 
would  think  he  was  unused  to  wearing  such  a  garment ;  then 
that  huge  gold  chain,  dangling  against  his  satin  vest,  is  out 
of  place.  Imagine  a  backwoodsman  (with  an  intellectual 
face)  fashionably  dressed  for  the  first  time,  and  you  will  form 
a  tolerably  correct  idea  of  the  manner  in  which  Doctoi 
Duffield  appears. 


394  CRAYON   SKETCHES,    AND 


J.  R,  LOWELL. 

LOWELL  is  one  of  the  few  who  has  the  frankness  and  the 
courage  to  unrobe  his  bosom,  and  let  the  world  see  his  heart 
beat.  He  has  sufficient  independence  to  think  aloud,  and 
dream  with  his  eyes  open.  He  shines  because  there  is  light 
in  his  brain,  and  he  writes  because  his  mind  is  pregnant  with 
thought  which  must  be  born.  He  has  a  divine  call  to  preach 
the  gospel  of  love  and  liberty,  in  verse ;  and  he  does  not 
grieve  away  the  spirit  of  his  muse  by  remaining  mute  when 
he  should  speak.  In  his  L'  Envoi,  he  says  : 

"But  if  the  poet's  duty  be  to  tell 
His  fellow-men  their  beauty  and  their  strength, 
And  show  them  the  deep  meaning  of  their  souls, 
He  also  is  ordained  to  higher  things  : 
He  must  reflect  his  race's  struggling  heart, 
And  shape  the  crude  conceptions  of  his  age." 

He  deems  this  the  land  of  song ;  and  he  looks  upon  the 
rast  forests,  broad  prairies,  huge  rivers,  lofty  mountains,  and 
thundering  cataracts,  as  the  poetry  of  nature ;  and  yet  he 
thinks  the  spirit  of  poetry  does  not  spring  from  waves  and 
woods,  and  rocks ;  "  her  womb  and  cradle  are  the  human 
heart,"  and  man  is  the  noblest  theme  for  song.  He  proclaims 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  395 

with  trumpet-tongue  that  every  nation  has  a  Messiah  with  a 
message  to  man  : — 

"  One  has  to  teach  that  labor  is  divine  ; 
Another,  freedom;  and  another,  mind." 

The  bard  must  "  write  the  death-warrant  of  tyranny,"  "  stab 
falsehood  to  the  heart,"  "  make  despots  tremble,"  "  preach  the 
freedom  and  the  divinity  of  man  and  the  glorious  claims  of 
brotherhood,"  without  waiting  for  hints  from  nodding  trees, 
and  dashing  waves,  and  fiery  clouds.  The  magnificent  poem 
from  which  the  above  extracts  are  taken,  is  his  masterpiece. 
It  is  highly  finished,  full  of  wondrous  fancy  and  mighty 
thought.  His  sonnets  are  the  sins  of  his  poetry  ;  for  he  has 
no  right  to  cramp  his  "  genius  "  in  one  place  and  stretch  it  in 
another,  on  such  an  iron  bedstead  ;  but  since  they  are  among 
the  best  to  be  found  in  our  land  or  in  our  language,  we 
pardon  the  transgressor,  and  say,  "  It  is  Alcibiades  defacing 
the  images  of  the  gods." 

The  following,  addressed  to  that  eminent  and  eloquent 
reformer,  Wendell  Phillips,  is  one  of  his  best : — 

"  He  stood  upon  the  world's  broad  threshold  ;  wide 

The  din  of  battle  and  of  slaughter  rose ; 
He  saw  God  stand  upon  the  weaker  side, 

That  sank  in  seeming  loss  before  its  foes  ; 
Many  there  were  who  made  great  haste  and  sold 

Unto  the  cunning  enemy  their  swords  ; 
He  scorned  their  gifts  of  fame,  and  power  and  gold, 

And  underneath  their  soft  and  flowery  words 


•396  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

Heard  the  cold  serpent  hiss  ;  therefore  he  went 
And  humbly  joined  him  to  the  weaker  pan, 
Fanatic  named,  and  fool,  yet  well  content, 

So  he  could  be  the  nearer  to  God's  heart, 
And  feel  its  solemn  pulses  sending  blood 

Through  all  the  wide-spread  veins  of  endless  good." 

Lowell  has  a  great  heart,  brimful  and  running  over  with 
irresistible  humor.  His  Bigelow  papers  abound  in  sly  strokes 
of  mirth  that  would  make  a  stoic  shake  his  sides  with  laugh 
ter.  He  is  the  Hudibras  of  America,  and  woe  betide  the 
unfortunate  wight  at  whom  he  pokes  his  fun  ;  for,  while  it  is 
sport  to  him,  it  is  death  to  the  subject  of  his  sarcasm.  He 
puts  the  following  words  into  the  mouth  of  a  Yankee,  when 
a  man  in  epaulettes  requests  him  to  join  his  regiment  and 
fight  the  Mexicans : — 

"As  for  war,  I  call  it  murder  ; 

There  you  have  it  plain  and  flat ; 
I  don't  want  to  go  no  furder 

Than  my  Testyment  for  that. 
God  has  said  so  plump  and  fairly 

It's  as  long  as  it  is  broad, 
And  you've  got  to  get  up  airly 

Ef  you  want  to  take  in  God. 
'Taint  your  eppyletts  and  feathers, 

Make  the  thing  a  grain  more  right 
'Taint  a  follering  your  bell-weathers, 

Will  excuse  you  in  his  sight. 
Ef  you  take  a  sword  and  dror  it, 

And  should  stick  a  feller  through, 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  397 

».<-..:•  . ; 

Government  ain't  to  answer  for  it, 
God  will  send  the  bill  to  you." 

Mr.  Lowell  is  a  genuine  philanthropist.  He  beholds  poo. 
Jown-trodden  humanity,  bleeding  by  the  way-side,  and  like 
the  good  Samaritan,  he  lifts  up  the  down-fallen,  and  the  beast 
he  puts  them  on  is  not  an  ass,  but  a  true  Pegasus.  He 
teaches  what  we  are,  and  what  we  ought  to  be — what  we  do, 
and  what  we  neglect  to  perform.  He  makes  the  brain  and 
bosom  glow  with  the  luxurious  beauty  of  his  imagery,  and 
spurs  on  to  the  performance  of  noble  deeds  by  his  clarion  cry 
of  forward.  His  "Legend  of  Brittany"  is  a  labored  and 
beautiful  production,  and  gives  ample  proof  of  his  descriptive 
powers  as  a  poet.  It  exhibits,  however,  one  of  his  glaring 
faults,  for  every  now  and  then  he  exchanges  his  own  Ameri 
can  Harp  for  a  German  Flute.  Several  stanzas  are  disfigured 
by  his  dove-tailing  Dutch  and  English  words  together,  such 
as,  "  whilere,"  "  unruth,"  "  undazed,""  &c.,  &c.  The  reader 
may  hunt  through  library  after  library,  without  finding  any 
thing  more  like  the  music  of  an  organ  than  the  follow 
ing  : — 

"  Then  swelled  the  organ  up  through  choir  and  nave, 
The  music  trembled  with  an  inward  thrill 

Of  bliss  at  its  own  grandeur  ;  wave  on  wave 
Its  flood  of  mellow  thunder  arose,  until 

The  hushed  air  shivered  with  the  throb  it  gave ; 
Then,  poising  for  a  moment,  it  stood  still, 

And  sank  and  rose  again,  to  burst  in  spray, 

That  wandered  into  silence  far  away.?> 


398  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

His  miscellaneous  poems  are  sweet  and  fresh  as  winrows  ol 
aewly-mown  hay.  Here  is  a  verse  taken  at  hap-hazard  : — 

"It's  a  mere  wild  rose-bud, 

Quite  sallow,  new,  and  dry  ; 
Yet  there  is  something  wondrous  in  it — 
Some  gleams  of  days  gone  by." 

The  "  Violet "  is  sweet  as  the  breath  of  that  flower.  The 
words  in  that  "  Fountain  "  rain  down  like  pearl-drops  in  the 
sun-light — leaping,  flashing,  sparkling,  "  waving  so  flower-like 
when  the  winds  blow."  Into  the  sunshine,  into  the  moon 
light,  into  the  starlight,  into  the  midnight,  ever  up-springing, 
always  down-falling.  In  the  "Rosaline"  we  have  pictures 
that  make  the  flesh  creep  and  the  hair  stand  erect.  Beneath 
the  thick  stars  he  sees  the  blue-eyed  and  bright-haired  Rosa 
line.  Her  hair  was  braided  as  on  the  day  they  were  to  bo 
wed.  The  death-watch  ticked  behind  the  wall,  and  the  wind 
moaned  among  the  pines,  the  leaves  shivered  on  the  trees, 
strange  sounds  were  on  the  air,  and  her  lidless  eyes  gazed  on 
him,  while  the  mourners,  with  their  long,  black  robes  and 
nodding  plumes,  passed  by.  Then  he  sees  the  shroud  of 
snowy  white.  By  and  by  the  stars  came  out : — 

"  The  stars  come  out ;  and  one  by  one 
Each  angel  from  his  silver  throne 
Looked  down  and  saw  what  I  had  done  j 
I  dared  not  hide  me,  Rosaline  ! 
I  crouched,  I  feared  thy  corpse  would  cry 
Against  me  to  God's  quiet  sky ; 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  399 

I  thought  I  saw  thy  blue  lips  try 
To  utter  something,  Rosaline !" 

Then  faces  loved  in  infancy  looked  mournfully  at  him,  unti 
his  heart  melted.  The  poem  must  be  read  to  be  appreciated 

Mr.  Lowell  has  been  liberally  educated,  and  is  one  of  the 
brightest  lights  that  ever  shone  within  the  walls  of  old  Har 
vard.  Unlike  most  men  of  true  poetic  talent,  he  is  a  man  of 
fortune,  who  knows  how  to  enjoy  the  good  things  of  this  life 
without  abusing  them.  He  is  a  reformer  of  the  most  radical 
school.  Notwithstanding  the  high  ground  he  maintains  as  an 
out  and  out  abolitionist,  and  the  unpopularity  of  his  senti 
ments  on  the  subject  of  slavery,  his  literary  labors  are  in  great 
demand,  and  the  productions  of  his  pen  command  the  highest 
price  paid  in  this  country,  and  obtain  the  widest  circulation. 
Is  not  ten  dollars  per  stanza  good  pay  ?  Mr.  Lowell  is  thirty- 
four  or  five  years  of  age,  of  medium  stature,  has  a  low,  broad 
forehead,  light  eyes,  a  large  shock  of  auburn  hair  on  his  head, 
and  too  much  moustache,  imperial,  goatee,  and  whiskers,  on 
his  face.  He  is  sociable,  affable,  humorous,  and  humane. 
He  is  married  to  a  lady  of  exquisite  taste  and  rare  attain 
ments,  who  has  written  poetry  her  husband  might  be  proud 
to  own.*  J.  R.  is  a  son  of  the  celebrated  Rev.  Doctor  Lowell 
Mr,  Lowell  and  his  family  have  recently  returned  from  Italy. 

*  Binv-e  the  above  was  written  Mrs.  Lowell  has  "  gone  to  the  angel  land." 


400  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 


JOHN  MITCHEL. 

THE  most  powerful  opponent  of  English  dominion  in  Ire 
land,  during  our  day,  has  been  the  person  whose  name  head? 
this  article.  O'Connell,  at  one  period,  had  a  wider  influence, 
and  a  more  popular  audience ;  but  the  endeavors  of  the  great 
orator  were  directed  to  a  widely  different  purpose  than  were 
those  of  Mitchel.  The  former  was  a  monarchist ;  the  latter 
a  republican.  The  one  sought  only  to  repeal  the  Legislative 
Union  between  the  two  countries.  The  other  desired  a  dis 
tinct  nationality — a  separate  State.  O'Connell  himself,  at  one 
period  "  an  uncrowned  monarch,"  as  some  termed  him,  was 
subservient  to  the  trappings — the  gold  and  glitter — the 
pageantry — the  "  Tribute  of  a  kingly  position,"  and  never 
dreamed  of  a  self-reliant  nationhood  for  his  native  land.  He 
even  condemned  the  republican  spirit  which  actuated  the 
Tones,  Emmetts  and  Fitzgeralds,  on  whose  ruin,  and  from 
the  suggestiveness  of  whose  thoughts  he  came  into  power. 
Mitchel,  in  every  particular,  was  the  opposite  of  this.  lie 
labored  with  a  fixed  purpose ;  that  purpose  based  on  the 
doctrines  of  Jefferson,  and  the  example  of  the  American 
Union.  He  was  tolerant  with  the  intolerant,  and  earnestly 
strove  to  sunder  those  differences  and  enmities  between  the 
religionists  of  his  country,  which  the  agitation  of  O'Connell 
had  too  deeply  sown.  He  believed  that  no  especial  religion 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  401 

should  be  linked  with  the  national  cause.  Liberty  was  ? 
Protestant  as  well  as  a  Catholic  right,  and  ably  and  with 
great  effect  did  he  dare  public  opinion,  as  then  formed,  and 
state  those  things  in  the  face  of  all.  Himself  a  Protestant, 
he  was  not  less  a  Catholic  in  his  nationality  ;  and  exposed  to 
both  parties  the  paltriness  of  their  fears,  as  regarded  the 
ascendancy  of  either  sect,  in  the  event  of  a  successful  revolu 
tion.  His  words  fell  with  desperate  effect,  especially  in 
Ulster,  whose  growing  adhesion  to  the  national  movement 
more  than  anything  else,  forced  the  government  from  the  wiles 
of  policy  into  open  and  undisguised  opposition  to  Mitchel. 

This  remarkable  man  was  born  in  Dungiven,  in  the 
North  of  Ireland,  in  the  year  1816.  His  father  was  a  Uni 
tarian  minister,  who  had  married  Miss  Haslett  of  Derry. 
While  the  subject  of  our  sketch  was  yet  young,  his  parents 
removed  to  Newry,  where  the  future  revolutionist  received 
the  rudiments  of  an  excellent  education.  He  afterwards  came 
to  Dublin,  where  he  graduated  as  Bachelor  of  Arts,  at  Trinity 
College,  and  carried  off  several  honors.  His  learning  is  not 
only  varied,  but  profound  on  many  subjects,  and  his  knowl 
edge  of  the  classics  and  ancient  law  is  only  equalled  by  his 
mastery  of  the  modern  systems  of  government. 

Mitchel,  like  nearly  all  of  the  leaders  of  the  "  Young  Ire 
land"  party,  was  originally  intended  for  the  church ;  but  his 
mind  having  undergone  a  change,  he  entered  the  office  of  an 
Attorney,  a  Mr.  Quinn,  in  Newry ;  and  at  the  closing  of  hia 
apprenticeship,  began  life  as  the  partner  of  a  lawyer  in  Ban- 
bridge. 


402 


There  is  one  incident  at  least  of  his  apprenticeship  which 
cannot  be  left  im chronicled,  and  this  was  his  marriage  with 

<3 

Miss  Verner.  He  was  only  twenty  at  the  period,  and  the 
circumstance  is  the  more  noticeable,  that  the  parties  eloped. 
In  the  Life  of  Theobald  Wolfe  Tone,  we  are  struck  with  the 
noble  devotion  of  his  beautiful  wife ;  and  when  the  life  of 
Mitchel  comes  to  be  written,  in  distinct  characters,  on  tho 
page  of  history,  the  love  and  fortitude  of  his  accomplished 
wife  will  not  be  the  least  noble  or  interesting  reminscenee 
among  the  many  that  will  surround  his  name. 

That  Mitche/s  mind  had  been  a  long  time  brooding  over 
the  state  of  his  country,  before  he  came  out  publicly,  is  evident 
from  the  research  shown  in  his  "  Life  of  Hugh  O'Neil,"  the 
great  Ulster  chief  and  statesman  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
This  work  was  published  towards  the  close  of  1845  ;  and  at 
one  bound  its  author  took  a  high  position  as  a  writer  and  a 
nationalist.  It  is  spoken  of  as  a  work  of  remarkable  power, 
and  a  perfect  daguerreotype  of  its  able  subject  and  his  exciting 
period. 

On  the  death  of  the  lamented  Thomas  Davis,  whom 
Meagher  called  their  "prophet  and  their  guide,"  Mitchel 
became  the  chief  writer  and  thinker  of  the  Nation.  In  1846, 
he  wrote  the  famous  article  on  Railways,  showing  how  the}' 
might  be  used  by  the  people  in  troublous  times ;  and  were 
not  alone  constructed  for  government  use,  as  the  officials  had 
calculated.  For  this  article  the  paper  was  prosecuted.  In 
the  same  year  the  "  Secession"  from  the  O'Connell  party  took 
place.  On  the  occasion,  Mitchel  opposed  the  "  Peace  Reso« 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  403 

lutions"  introduced  by  the  O'Connells,  and  strongly  repro* 
bated  the  adhesion  of  repealers  to  either  whig  or  tory  ranks. 
He  said : 

"  For  me,  I  entered  this  association  with  the  strong  convic 
tion  that  it  was  to  be  made  an  instrument  for  wresting  the 
government  of  Ireland  out  of  the  hands  of  Englishmen, 
whether  Whig  or  Tory,  and  not  a  coadjutor  of  any  of 
them,  perpetuating  the  provincial  degradation  of  the  country." 

And  again  this  timely  and  scathing  warning : 

"  Brtve  the  Ulster  Protestants  away  from  you  by  needless 
tests,  and  you  perpetuate  the  degradation  both  of  yourselves 
and  them.  Keep  them  at  a  distance  from  you — make  your 
selves  subservient  to  the  old  and  well-known  English  policy 
of  ruling  Ireland  always  by  one  party  or  the  other — and  Eng 
land  will  keep  her  heel  upon  both  your  necks  forever.  Slaves, 
and  the  sons  of  slaves,  you  will  perpetuate  nothing  but  slavery 
and  shame  from  generation  to  generation." 

The  "  Secessionists"  formed  the  Irish  Confederation,  which 
was  composed  of  all  the  talent  and  energy  of  the  national 
party.  At  the  commencement  of  1848,  Mitchel  left  the 
Nation,  as  he  deemed  a  more  warlike  policy  necessary  to  the 
preparation  of  the  country,  than  Mr.  Duffy,  the  proprietor 
of  that  journal,  would  admit.  To  speak  his  own  principles 
freely  and  without  constraint,  he  started  the  United  Irishman, 
called  after  the  men  whose  labors  he  desired  to  continue  to 
the  destiny  they  augured  for  Ireland.  It  was  the  most  pow 
erful  exponent  of  the  European  mind  of  the  day.  With  the 
shibboleth,  that,  the  life  of  a  peasant  was  equal  to  the  life  of 
a  peer,  he,  in  all  the  consciousness  of  right,  preached  the  hope 
ful  doctrines  of  a  comparatively  new  faith. 


404  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

"  Since  the  days  of  Dr.  Drennan,"  says  the  writei  of  a 
brilliant  series  of  papers  furnished  to  a  New  York  journal, 
"  had  not  been  read  in  Ireland  such  noble  exhortations  as  this 
famous  journal  put  forth.  They  had  all  the  vigor  of  Swift, 
and  the  point  of  Berkeley.  But  there  was  running  through 
them,  and  flashing  from  them,  an  enthusiasm  like  that 
which  summoned  the  young  students  of  Germany  to  arms,  in 
the  Napoleonic  war ;  and  which,  again,  in  the  upheaving  of 
the  nations,  in  1848,  called  forth,  in  surging  crowds,  the  stu 
dents  of  the  European  schools  and  universities,  from  Rome  to 
Berlin,  and  from  Pesth  to  Paris.  It  was  a  divine  literature. 
It  was  resonant  with  the  sublime  intonation  of  antiquity.  It 
absorbed  and  poured  out  again  the  songs  of  the  Rhine  and 
Alps,  but  was  touchingly  modulated  with  the  sorrows  of  the 
Irish  race;  and,  in  quick  vibrations,  elicited  the  mirth,  the 
scorn,  the  hope,  the  vengeance  of  the  Celtic  spirit.  It  was 
the  omnipotent  voice  of  freedom,  which  speaks  in  every  tone 
and  dialect,  and  from  crowded  cities,  as  from  the  dreariest 
solitudes,  evokes  the  responsive  chorus. 

"  Whether  we  speak  of  sea  or  fire,  in  the  exhaustless  nature 
of  each,  we  find  a  type  of  that  spirit,  which  in  Ireland  the 
foreign  foe  has  for  centuries  sought  to  master,  but  has  never 
tamed  and  never  can  annihilate.  If  it  be  like  the  fire,  and  if 
it  sometimes  smoulders,  a  bold  hand  flinging  in  fresh  fuel, 
can  light  it  up  anew.  If  it  be  like  the  sea,  and  if  it  some 
times  sleeps,  a  passing  wind  will  wake  it  into  anger.  This 
has  been  the  history  of  Ireland ;  this  the  explanation  of  her 
mysterious  relapses  and  commotions.  This  gives  us  an  insight 
into  the  perplexing  future. 

"  Mitchel's  writings  did  not  create,  but  evoked  the  insurrec 
tionary  spirit  of  the  country.  The  spirit  had  been  there,  and 
there  for  ever  it  will  abide.  But  it  was  smouldering,  and  he 
cast  it  up  in  flames  once  more.  It  was  stagnant,  and  he 
stirred  it  from  its  depths,  and  lashed  it  into  a  storm. 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  405 

"  Like  a  sky-wonder  in  a  gloomy  night 
Outshone  this  man  upon  the  ways  of  men, 
Illumining  the  fetid  social  den, 
In  which  souls  dwindled  in  their  prime  of  might ; 
For  that  they  lacked  an  honest  guiding  light, 
To  cheer  them  from  the  chamber-house  of  chains. 
Where  ghouls,  with  more  tongues  than  the  crop  had  graii.s 
Bought  up  their  sense,  re-buying  with  it  bright 
Golden-lined  favors  from  the  despot's  hand. 
Oh,  thou  wert  one — JOHN  MITCHEL — in  the  isle, 
To  stand  before  the  dooming  cannons'  file, 
And  preach  God's  holy  truth  unto  the  land ! 
Ay,  your  faith  shook  them  from  the  damn'd  eclipse, 
As  Christian  sinners  shrink  neath  the  Apocalypse ! 

SAVAGE. 

The  government  was  thrown  from  its  centre.  The  most 
decisive  steps  were  necessary — such  was  the  success  Mitchel'a 
appeals  to  Ireland  had  met  with.  The  villainous  "  Treason- 
Felony  Bill,"  or  "  Gagging  Act,"  was  introduced  by  Sir  George 
Gray  into  the  British  Parliament,  notoriously  to  put  Mitchel 
down.  W.  J.  Fox,  M.  P.,  the  well-known  English  Liberal, 
considered  the  bill  "  an  infringement  of  the  liberty  of  the 
subject."  If  it  were  passed,  he  said  "  No  man  would  be  safe  in 
addressing  a  meeting  in  times  of  political  excitement."  Of 
course  the  United  Irishman  was  immediately  brought  beneath 
the  lasso  of  the  Gagging  Act ;  and  Mitchel  was  arrested  May 
13,  1848,  and  committed  to  Newgate,  on  the  charges  of 
"  felony  under  the  provisions  of  the  new  act."  He  was  brought 
to  trial  on  the  26th,  and  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  a 
verdict  of  "  guilty"  was  returned.  On  the  following  morning 
he  was  sentenced  to  fourteen  years'  banishment.  The  closing 
of  the  scene  was  deeply  exciting.  When  the  sentence  had 


406  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND 

been  pronounced,  Mr.  Mitchel,  in  a  clear,  firm,  and  manly 
voice,  then  spoke  as  follows,  amidst  a  solemn  hush  of  breath- 
Less  excitement : — 

"  The  law  has  done  its  part,  and  the  Queen  of  England, 
her  crown,  and  government  in  Ireland,  are  now  secure,  pur 
suant  to  act  of  Parliament.  I  have  done  my  part  also. 
Three  months  ago,  I  promised  Lord  Clarendon  and  his  gov 
ernment,  in  this  country,  that  I  would  provoke  him  into  his 
courts  of  justice,  as  places  of  this  kind  are  called,  and  that  I 
would  force  him  publicly  and  notoriously  to  pack  a  jury 
against  me  to  convict  me,  or  else  that  I  would  walk  a  freeman 
out  of  this  court,  and  provoke  him  to  a  contest  in  another 
field.  My  lord,  I  knew  I  was  setting  my  life  on  that  cast ; 
but  I  knew  that  in  either  event  the  victory  should  be  with 
me,  and  it  is  with  me.  Neither  the  jury,  nor  the  judges,  nor 
any  other  man  in  this  court,  presumes  to  imagine  that  it  is  a 
criminal  who  stands  in  this  dock,  (Murmurs  of  applause 
which  the  police  endeavored  to  suppress.)  I  have  shown  what 
the  law  is  made  of  in  Ireland ;  I  have  shown  that  her  Majesty's 
government  sustains  itself  in  Ireland  by  packed  juries,  by  par 
tisan  judges,  by  perjured  sheriffs." 

BARON  LEFROY. — "  The  court  cannot  sit  here  to  hear  you 
arraign  the  jurors  of  the  country,  the  sheriffs,  or  the  country, 
the  administration  of  justice,  the  tenure  by  which  the  Crown 
of  England  holds  this  country.  We  cannot  sit  here  to  suffer 
you  to  proceed  thus,  because  the  trial  is  over.  Everything 
you  had  to  say  previous  to  the  judgment,  the  court  was  ready 
to  hear,  and  did  hear.  We  cannot  suffer  you  to  stand  at  the 
bar  to  repeat,  I  must  say,  very  nearly  a  repetition  of  the  offence 
for  which  you  have  been  sentenced." 

MR.  MITCHEL. — "  I  will  not  say  any  more  of  that  kind  • 
but  I  say  this" 


OFF-HAND    TAKINGS.  40t 

BARON  LEFROY. — "  Anything  you  wish  to  say  we  will  hear ; 
but  I  trust  you  will  keep  yourself  within  the  limits  which 
your  own  judgment  must  suggest  to  you." 

MR.  MITCHEL. — -"I  have  acted  all  through  this  business 
from  the  first,  under  a  strong  sense  of  duty.  I  do  not  repent 
anything  I  have  done,  and  I  believe  the  cause  which  I  have 
opened  is  only  commenced.  The  Roman  who  saw  his  hand 
burning  to  ashes  before  the  tyrant,  promised  that  three  hun 
dred  should  follow  out  his  enterprise.  Can  I  not  promise  for 
one,  for  two,  for  three  2" 

As  Mr.  Mitchel  pronounced  the  words  one,  two  and  three, 
he  pointed  to  the  friends  behind  him.  The  men  thus  solemnly 
indicated  were  Messrs.  Meagher,  Reilly,  and  O'Gorman.  He 
then  raised  his  eye  with  a  proud  glance,  and  recognising 
others  in  all  parts  of  the  court,  he  added  with  eagerness, 
"  aye,  for  hundreds." 

Several  voices  in  the  vicinage  of  the  dock  simultaneously, 
and  with  deep  solemnity,  cried  "  thousands,"  "  and  promise 
for  me."  The  words  were  taken  up  all  through  the  court, 
and  for  some  minutes  the  building  resounded  with  "  for  me," 
"  and  for  me,  Mitchel,"  "  and  for  me,  too." 

Scarcely  were  .the  echoes  in  the  court-room  silent  before 
Mitchel,  carried  off  in  chains,  with  a  strong  force  of  cavalry, 
was  put  on  board  an  attendant  steamer,  and  bound  for  his 
destination.  He  was  taken  to  Spike  Island,  in  the  Cove  of 
Cork,  afterwards  to  Bermuda,  where  he  spent  a  year  of  "  sus 
pense,  agony,  and  meditation."  After  a  five  months  voyage, 
he  was  next  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  for  five  months,  in  a 
•'  close,  unclean  and  unhealthy  cavity  under  the  poop  of  th? 


408  CRAYON    SKETCHES,    AND    OFF-HAND    TAKINGS. 

Neptune,"  when  the  Home  Government  ordered  him — fearing 
he  should  instigate,  even  by  his  presence,  the  excited  men  of 
the  Cape  to  rebellion — to  Van  Diemen's  Land.  With  the 
assistance  of  Mr.  P.  J.  Smyth,  sent  from  America,  by  the 
friends  of  Mitchel,  the  Irish  Revolutionist  effected  his  escape 
in  the  middle  of  last  year,  and  landed  in  San  Francisco  towards 
the  close  of  October,  where  he  met  with  the  most  rapturous 
reception.  He  immediately  proceeded  to  New  York,  and 
has  taken  up  his  residence  in  the  city  of  Brooklyn,  L.  I.,  with 
his  family  and  friends  around  him. 

I  am  indebted  to  one  of  Mr.  Mitchel's  personal  friends  for 
the  above  graphic  and  beautiful  sketch.  It  must  hare  been 
written  before  the  gifted  patriot  sacrificed  himself  on  the  altar 
of  American  slavery.  John  Mitchel,  in  Ireland,  was  a  repub 
lican,  a  hero,  and  a  patriot.  Had  he  died  there,  or  in  the 
land  of  his  banishment,  he  would  have  been  honored  as  a 
martyr  to  liberty ;  but  he  unfortunately  came  to  America, 
and,  in  a  fit  of  passion,  wrote  an  infamous  paragraph,  which 
went  like  a  dagger  into  the  very  heart  of  freedom.  Being  too 
proud  or  too  obstinate  to  retract,  the  indignation  of  the  people 
of  this  country  came  down  upon  him  like  an  avalanche.  I 
cannot  allow  the  above  to  appear  in  the  pages  of  my  book, 
without  uttering  a  protest  against  his  views  of  American 
slavery. 

THE   END. 


THIS  BOOK 


RK'D  LD 


YB  45568 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


